


The Feral Way

by Ahmose_Inarus



Series: Helios Rising [3]
Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dominance, Fake Character Death, Gang Rape, Human Trafficking, M/M, Multi, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmose_Inarus/pseuds/Ahmose_Inarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Logan rejects the interests of a female feral, he has no idea that she years later, she would return to make him regret it, taking away that which he holds most dear... Spencer Reid and Remy LeBeau...  Helios and Gambit...  his mates...  Left lost and anguished, Logan has no idea that his entire world will be returned to him by the last person he would ever expect...  Victor Creed.  But Logan wasn't the only one who had spent all that time in pain...  What did Remy and Spencer go through in those horrible days, and will their relationship ever be the same?  </p><p>Takes place BEFORE Helios Rising!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Oregon  
1990’s

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Elise met Logan, it was his scent that she caught first. A male feral mutant… she could smell that he was old, and yet young… she could smell his strength, his dominance, his virility… Everything that she, as a young feral female, was instinctively driven to seek out in a mate. And so seek him out she did. It was a very small town. She had her own small house out in the woods, where the neighbors were just out of eyesight in the trees, but their lights could be seen through the leaves in the night. She had come into town for some supplies, like a lightbulb for the basement, when she caught his scent.

She had frozen in place, her eyes, hidden behind her sunglasses, passing over the street before her. Her slit pupils widened as her nostrils quivered. And then… she saw a strange man emerge from the little grocery store. There was an unlit cigar in his mouth and two bags in his hands. She quirked a brow as she inspected him. He was much smaller than she had hoped, but he had a commanding presence that she liked. She remained where she was, downwind from him. He was unaware of her presence so far.

He stuffed the grocery bags into the saddlebags of his motorcycle and swung his leg over. He revved the engine and, abandoning her errands, Elise followed him. He didn’t go far; he ended up at a little dingy motel at the edge of the tiny downtown area. She watched him duck into the room he had already rented, and then she settled up on a high branch across the street to watch, and wait.

He didn’t emerge until after dark, and he walked up the one block to the bar. Elise went after him. Though she never had been in the bar before, as the scents didn’t appeal to her, she stepped in without trepidation, her keen eyes sweeping over the room to locate the other feral. Several locals looked mildly surprised to see her, and one tried to intercept her as she crossed the room, a grin on his face that elicited a roll of the eyes from Elise.

“As if, Rodney.” She growled, laying a hand on his chest and pushing him aside as she continued to the bar, slipping onto the stool beside the feral, who had placed himself at the very end of the bar in the dark. He was nursing a beer, and paused when she sat down. A moment later, and his nostrils flared and crystal blue eyes snapped over to latch onto her green eyes. His eyebrows shot up when he saw her feline eyes.

“Huh.” He grunted, and turned to face before himself again, taking another pull at his beer bottle. She smirked and crossed her legs, hoping to earn an appreciative look, but he didn’t even blink. “Why are you following me.” He demanded, suddenly. 

She looked surprised. She had been very careful to remain downwind from him.

“There’s more than just sight, smell and hearing.” The man said. “There’s a little thing called ‘instincts’.” And he finished off the beer and waved at the bartender for another. When the bottle was set before him, the bartender looked at Elise.

“Get ya anything?” He asked, and she looked at the feral beside her. So did the bartender. The feral just snorted, and she narrowed her eyes.

“… Disarono. On the rocks.” She ordered, and the bartender snickered, but went to get her drink. She took a sip and watched the feral out of the corner of her eye.

“… D’ya want somethin’?” The man asked.

“I’ll settle for your name, for now.” She said. He paused and glanced at her, disgruntled, then snorted again. “I’m Elise.” She pushed.

“… Logan. An’ I’m not interested, kid.” She looked rather taken aback at that.

“But… you’re like me.”

“There are a lotta folk out there like us.” Logan told her, then turned and looked her straight in the eyes. “Don’t throw yerself at the first mutant ya come across.”

“You think you’re the first?” She scoffed. “No. You’re not. But you ARE the first like me.”

“Don’t throw yerself at the first feral ya come across.” Logan amended. “I know what ya want from me. And I ain’t the one ta give it to ya. Ain’t lookin’ fer a mate. Or pups.” And he finished his beer and slapped some cash down on the bar before he slid off of the stool and made his way to the door, calling “EVER” over his shoulder. Elise scowled after him.

But then, an interesting opportunity arose.

“Hey.” Called Rodney, looking at Elise, but pointing back over his shoulder at Logan as he left. “Did he…?”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, if that’s what you’re asking.” Elise snorted, smirking at the tipsy men who all turned to glare after the stranger who had insulted a lady in their community. And to her delight, they seemed to feel that they needed to teach the stranger some manners.

She hurried out the door after them, a gleeful smile crossing her face at the “Hey! HEY!!! You think you can just roll into town and start insulting people? Huh, stranger?!” Rodney was shouting. She watched Logan slow to a stop and tilt his head back with a silent groan before he turned to face the half dozen men advancing on him. He looked weary and annoyed.

“Look, bub.” He sighed, raising his hands in a placating manner. “I ain’t lookin’ fer trouble. Didn’t insult the lady. Just informed her that her interest ain’t mutual. Ain’t lookin to date, hook up, anythin’. Jus’ passin through.”

The men shifted and glanced around at each other. Elise, wanting very much to see what this feral was made of, announced “That’s not the conversation I took part in. I don’t think we want your kind around here, if that’s how you’re gonna treat the women here.” And she was quite satisfied when the drunks all began to move in. They were small town country boys… they needed a good brawl every now and then. Logan was giving her a look now.

“Yer a real piece o’ work, lady.” He snarled. She just smirked and shrugged. “Manipulative lil’ bitch, aintcha?”

And that was all it took. The men rushed him. Elise felt her breathing deepen and her pulse pick up as she watched the man’s practiced moves, like a veteran Alpha Wolf who was well accustomed to defending himself, and his status. He pivoted, ducked, turned and dodged strikes, though didn’t throw any of his own.

“I don’t wanna hurt ‘em!” He snapped, glaring at Elise.

“By all rights,” She called back, egging on her drunken, misguided champions, “I outta call the sheriff… touchin’ like that can be considered Sexual Harassment, y’know.” 

Now the men were enraged and driven by the booze, adrenaline and testosterone, with the oh so chivalrous need to defend her honor. Logan glared at her, snarled, and whirled. And then he let out a roar and—

SNIKT!!!

“HOLY SHIT!!” Rodney howled as he and his posse skidded to stop. “It’s a MUTANT!!!”

“Ya got two choices, bub…” Logan growled. “Ya can go to the hospital while I skip town, or ya can move aside, an’ I’ll leave town right now. Up ta you.”

BLAM!!!

Several shouts went up, and even Elise jumped and let out a little scream. Logan staggered back, his head twisted to the side. And then a deputy emerged from the shadows, gun up. Slowly, Logan straightened and turned to face them all. Elise felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw the gleam of metal on his forehead before his skin knit up and healed over flawlessly, right before her eyes. She knew then and there, THIS was the one.

The men, by now, were freaking out and running like hell. And then, Elise and Logan were alone, staring at each other. Then Logan snorted, sheathed his claws and turned his back on her, walking away. 

“Where are you going?!”

“Ta get the hell outta town.”

“Why?!”

“Seems I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Logan shot back. Elise hurried to catch up to him, and walked beside him. 

“You can stay at my place.”

“Not interested.” Logan replied, looking annoyed. 

“But—“

“Look lady. The answer is NO. Now I may be a feral, but I’m still human, ya got that? My more primitive instincts don’t rule me. I’m not lookin’ ta mate, ta settle down, nothin’. All yer doin’ is pissin’ me off.” They had reached the motel, and Logan let himself in.

“… What’s wrong with me?!” She shrieked.

“Wrong place, wrong time.” Logan answered, shoving his things into his saddlebags, which he carried outside and secured onto his motorcycle. Then, as he swung his leg over, he stared her in the eyes. “This just… ain’t a good time, darlin’. I got nuthin’ ta offer a mate. What ya see?” He spread his arms out. “This is all I own in this God forsaken world. I gave ya the name Logan because it’s all I got. No middle name, no last name. Just Logan. The Wolverine. That’s all I got. I hafta be in my thirties. Know what I remember? Ten years? I dunno who I am, where I come from, if I maybe have a mate already… kids… I dunno! I’m tryin ta find out. So no. Right now, I ain’t interested.”

“I… I’m sorry…” Elise gasped, looking shocked. And then she had the decency to look sincerely regretful. “I… is there… anything I can do?”

“Naw. Gotta figure it out on my own.”

“When you do… if there’s nothing… no one, uh… waiting... Come back?”

“No promises. But I’ll keep yer invitation in mind. Take care of yerself.” And he revved the bike, and roared off down the street and out of town…

Years passed… and Elise was feeling quite done with small town life. One evening, she was watching the news and was stunned to recognize the feral, Logan, that had come through town. She watched, eyes wide, as the blurry news footage showed the man, in black leather body armor, battling another large feral mutant in New York City, with the X-Men. That was when she made her decision. She put her house on the market and moved to the City…

She had found a good job, gotten herself a nice loft with what she inherited from her parents, and set up a whole new life for herself. Several more times, she saw the X-Men on the news. And she saw Logan with them. It was almost two years later when she finally caught his scent. She was on her lunch break, but when she caught his scent, all thoughts of returning to work fled, and she began to hunt him down… eventually, she found herself at a large demonstration… it was led by the mutant hating group, Friends of Humanity. Her keen eyes swept the crowd from behind her sunglasses, and she managed to spot him. He was standing back at the entrance of an alleyway, with a young man, a teenager, with bright blue eyes. As she approached, she saw his nostrils flare, and then he turned… and stared at her.

He straightened up when she approached, looking surprised.

“… I remember ya.” He stated simply.

“And I remember you.” She said with a smile. “Did you find the answers you were looking for?”

“Somewhat. I know what I need ta know.” Logan responded, then glanced at the boy with him, who looked wary. “Go on, snowman. Find Cyke. I’m fine.”

“… Uh… sure thing…” The boy said, and scurried off.

“He smells… interesting. Like… winter.”

“Kid’s got ice powers.” Logan told her.

“Well… That would explain it.” She nodded. She moved to stand beside him, and looked over the crowd. “What are you doing?”

“Makin’ sure things don’t get outta hand. Make sure the mob don’t attack any mutants, and make sure mutants don’t attack the mob.”

“Huh.” She said, crossing her arms. “You never came back.”

“No.” Logan confirmed. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I found a home.” Logan told her. 

“With the X-Men?”

“Yes.”

“… did you… find a mate with them?”

“No.” Logan said simply. “Ain’t lookin’ fer a mate, darlin’. Not then, not now.” He turned and looked at her. “An’ if that’s why yer here, yer wastin’ yer time.” He gave her a look. “Ya didn’t exactly make a good impression. I ain’t interested.” She gave him a frustrated look. He eyed her, then chuckled. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m just not the matin’ kind…” And he turned around and walked away.

That day, a burning rage kindled in Elise’s gut. And it would fester for several more years. But a simple comment overheard at a mutant friendly club in New York would fan those flames into a raging inferno…

Elise was simply enjoying a drink with a couple of friends when she heard the name “Wolverine" behind her. She turned her head, her acute hearing picking up on the conversation.

“You’re kidding!” She heard one woman saying. “Gambit and Wolverine?!”

“Yeah.” Replied another woman. “Apparently, Wolverine took him as his mate a few years back. So unless you wanna taste those claws, I wouldn’t try to get too friendly with Gambit, no matter HOW much he flirts with you!”

“Damn… I could see Gambit swinging both ways, but not the Wolverine…”

“Wanna know something even MORE interesting?” A man asked then, and both women hissed “What?!”

Chuckling, the man said “it ain’t just Gambit and Wolverine. There’s ANOTHER guy.”

“… A triad?!” Gasped one of the women.

“Yeah.” The guy said. “Someone callin’ himself Helios.”

A group of people walked by then, and Elise lost the conversation. But it mattered little to her…

The Wolverine had rejected her. Twice. Told her he wasn’t wanting to take a mate. And then took two. And then, to add insult to injury, he had taken two MALE mates…

“Elise?” Asked one of the women she was with. “You okay? You’re growling…”

Elise didn’t say a thing. She stood and turned, leaving her friends there without a word, the rage of a rejected feral burning within her.

The Wolverine would pay…

Planning it was not easy.

It took her the better part of two years… she built her contacts. Got in touch with people… organizations… But finally, it was time…


	2. Chapter 2

Remy LeBeau was NOT happy. 

Scratch that. He was absolutely incensed beyond reason. Enraged, furious, irate… near homicidal. If he weren’t concussed so badly that the whole world was spinning, he would have killed someone by now. But all he could do was lie there and cling desperately to consciousness, and watch as his lover of several years, FBI Profiler Spencer Reid, knelt on the ground between him and their attackers, who had guns trained on them. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue for Spencer, as one of the young man’s mutant abilities was to generate and condense light into a shield that could easily stop bullets. But one of the men who had cornered them in the alley wore a small device on his belt that dampened all mutant powers within a thirty foot radius.

Remy was unable to focus enough to hear what was being said, but he couldn’t help but watch as Spencer lifted his hands in surrender, and their attackers moved in. Then, old models of the Genoshan Slave Collars were around both of their necks, and Spencer was being marched to a car, his hands bound behind his back. He turned and cast a worried glance at Remy over his shoulder, and then Remy groaned as he was being dragged after him. Only halfway to the car and Remy was heaving as the vertigo and nausea from his concussion swept over him.

Then he was lifted into the air, swung and dropped and “OUCH!” Spencer howled, as Remy was dropped on top of him. Then the trunk of the car slammed shut and the pair were in darkness. 

“… Remy…” Spencer groaned. “Your elbow is killing my spleen!”

“Nngh… D-Desole, cher…” Remy gasped, and the pair began to shift, Spencer letting out the occasional yelp of pain as he got jabbed in uncomfortable places, but finally, they managed to resituate themselves on their sides, Spencer spooning Remy from behind.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, burying his nose into Remy’s hair.

“… Got a killer headache… feel sick, me…”

Spencer winced. They had been at the mutant friendly club in New York City that the X-Men would occasionally go to… Spencer didn’t much care for places like that and had needed some air. Remy decided to join him and have a cigarette. Logan had been in the middle of a game of pool, and had remained inside. Spencer and Remy had stepped out into the back alley and Remy had barely gotten his cigarette lit when, with a crack, something had collided with the back of his head, and sent him crashing to the ground. He had blacked out. He didn’t know for how long, but it couldn’t have been too long… When he had come to, he hadn’t felt his powers, and he knew they were in big trouble.

“That thing that negated our powers… it turned on about the same time they hit you.” Spencer told him softly. “I never even had a chance to contact Logan.”

“He be protective, mon amour… He come lookin’ fo’ us…”

“I know. And he’ll… smell your blood. He’ll know something happened.”

“… bleedin’ bad?”

“No... but you were bleeding.”

“Good…” Remy breathed, his eyes growing heavy as his head throbbed.

“Remy?”

“… Hnn?”

“Remy, stay with me…”

“… I… sleep…?”

“No Remy… No sleeping…” Spencer gasped, lifting his head. “I need you to stay awake.”

Silence. 

“Remy? Remy?!”

There was no answer. Spencer swallowed thickly and slowly lay his head down, burying his face into Remy’s hair and closing his eyes, trying not to let the fear overwhelm him as the car carried them off to some unknown fate…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Logan finished his game of pool, he headed to get another drink. And that was when he saw that Spencer and Remy still hadn’t returned. He frowned. They had to have left at least fifteen minutes ago. Enough time for Remy to have had several cigarettes. Frowning, Logan walked over to the table.

“Hey.” He growled, and the X-Men who had come with them looked up. “Ya seen Spencer an’ Remy come back?”

“… No.” Rogue admitted, frowning slightly. Alex Summers craned his neck and glanced at the back door.

“They’ve been gone too long…” Logan growled, turning and heading for the back door. After a moment, Alex, Rogue and Betsy all rose and followed him. The four mutants stepped outside and into the alley, looking around. Logan tensed immediately, sniffing the air.

“I don’t know HOW you do that man.” Alex complained. “It stinks out here.”

“Blood.” Logan barked, lunging across the alley and dropping to his knees. “I smell blood.” And then his hand hovered over the ground. “… Remy.” His head snapped up and he was looking around wildly. “REMY?! SPENCER?!” He roared, and Betsy nodded to the others. Rogue immediately look flight, looking around, and Alex soon had the alley brightly illuminated with pulsing cosmic energy. Betsy was immediately beside Logan, and her cell phone was to her ear.

“… Warren? Get the others moving. Remy and Spencer have been abducted from the alley behind the club. There’s blood and Logan isn’t going to be in control for much longer.” She said without preamble, glancing back at Logan who had been tracking Remy and Spencer’s scents. “I’ll keep him anchored as much as I can, but…”

“We’re on our way” Angel replied, and hung up. Betsy followed Logan to the curb, where he was turning in a circle, gold rimmed blue sweeping up and down the street. 

“I lost it…” He choked out frantically. “I lost their scent.”

“They were put into a vehicle.” Betsy said slowly, resting a hand on his shoulder as she fought to keep the Wolverine from going feral in the middle of Manhattan. “The others are on their way. We’ll find them, but we need you focused.”

“… I’m tryin’, Bets…” Logan rasped, his throat tight. “I’m tryin’…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spencer’s eyes opened when the car came to a stop and the motor cut off. He heard voices, and he lifted his head.

“Remy?” He whispered. The man didn’t answer. Spencer worried his lower lip, and then snapped his eyes shut and ducked his head when the dark trunk opened and he was blinded by the light. Then rough hands were grabbing him and dragging him out of the trunk over Remy’s body. He stumbled as he was set on his feet, and rough hands held his biceps. They seemed to be in the cargo bay area of an old warehouse, and Reid was unnerved to see nearly a dozen people standing around, staring at him. He was very nervous… he had been abducted, and these people weren’t hiding their faces… that didn’t bode well. 

A moment later and Remy was being dragged out and unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Spencer winced and struggled, and for some reason, he was released. He immediately dropped to one knee beside Remy, anxiously looking him over and twisting his hands in his bonds behind his back, frustrated at not having their use to check on his lover. Then he lifted his head and twisted around, eyes sweeping over the people staring at them. 

A woman approached, with green feline eyes. She was tall and muscular, with short brown hair and sharp looking fingernails that reminded Spencer of Sabretooth. She stared back at Spencer and her lips curled in disgust, and then she looked at the thugs who had abducted the two young men bound before her. She sighed and handed over a wad of cash saying “Here. Our business is done.” And four of the men hopped into the car and left. 

A tall, slender man in a sharp looking business suit approached then, also staring down.

“And… why would I want them?” He asked.

“I don’t know…” The woman said with a shrug. “And I don’t care, Anthony. I just want them gone. Permanently. You can gut them and throw them in the river for all I care, as long as you do what I’ve asked.”

“Who are they?” The man called Anthony asked her.

“… the Wolverine’s mates.” She sneered, a look of utter loathing on her face. “Helios and Gambit.”

“Gambit? THE Gambit?!” Anthony demanded, eyes going wide. The woman rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. I just want them out of the way. I want the Wolverine to pay. Can you do it?”

“I can do it.” Anthony nodded, eying Spencer and Remy with a greedy look in his eyes. “… And you’ve got a deal. I’ll take them. I’m sure they could fetch a good price, just over the fact that they’re the Wolverine’s… And Gambit… well…” He chuckled.

Spencer tensed, his heart pounding as he swallowed thickly. The remaining men were told to “bring them”, and he was jerked to his feet and forced further into the warehouse, Remy being dragged behind them. They got to a small room where a woman was waiting. She had pale blonde hair, silvery blue eyes and milky skin. She eyed Spencer and Remy curiously, but showed neither concern, nor pity. But what really made Spencer nervous was the sight of the video camera. Wincing, he was forced to kneel in the middle of the room before the camera, and watched as two men held Remy between them. The feral woman approached, eying Remy disdainfully, then seized his hair in her hand, jerking his head up, and began to slap his face until he twitched, then jerked away, blinking his eyes rapidly.

“Wake up you useless whore.” She snarled, and Remy winced, shaking his head slightly before focusing on her.

“… Quoi?” He mumbled. “Who de fuck are you?!”

“Charming.” She drawled, and the men dragged Remy over and placed him on his knees beside Spencer. Remy looked at him.

“Y’ alrigh’, petit?” He asked softly, and Spencer nodded. “Wha’s goin’ on?” Spencer glanced at their captors, who were talking quietly. 

“That woman paid the men who grabbed us.” He said, softly. “It’s only been an hour, hour and a half. It’s Logan. Something about Logan… she knows we’re…”

“Dat we be his?”

“Yeah.” Spencer nodded.

“Merde… she usin’ us t’ get t’ Wolvie?”

“I think so.”

“L’enfer…” Remy hissed, eyes blazing. “No way… I ain’t gon’ be used against Logan.”

“Shhh… We have to be VERY careful.” Spencer told him. “I don’t know what she wants, but she’s not keeping us. She’s selling us to that guy in the suit.”

“Sellin’?!” Remy blurted.

“SHH!” Spencer hissed when several of the armed men glared at them. Remy settled, but looked livid. “Yes. She said she didn’t care whether we lived or died, she just wants us out of the way. And he sounds like he wants to turn around and sell US.”

“Mutant Trafficking?”

“I think so. I think she has a grudge against Logan, and the traffickers are a convenient way for her to get rid of us clean…” Spencer told Remy. “For now, keep your mouth shut and cooperate, and we just might live long enough for the X-Men to find us…”

“… Ce sont des conneries…” Remy snarled under his breath, beginning to fight his bonds. But he froze when everyone turned to stare at them, the conversations over. And then the money exchanged hands. One of the men pulled on a ski mask and walked over, tugging Spencer’s purple scarf from his neck, and then tugging the cream colored scarf from Remy’s, and used them to gag both men.

“Face the camera.” Commanded the feral woman. “This won’t take long.”

The pair did as they were told. The camera was turned on, and the red light was blinking. The man in the ski mask behind Spencer and Remy pulled a gun.

“This message is for the Wolverine.” The man declared, and pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of Remy’s head. “Consider this payback for your rejections and lies...”

And he pulled the trigger. 

Spencer’s eyes widened as the deafening shot went off, and blood sprayed everywhere. Beside him, Remy’s body jerked and pitched forwards, and then hit the floor with a loud thump. Spencer didn’t even register he was screaming as he stared down at the body, the head rolled to the side and the red and black eyes, wide and blank, stared off into the abyss. The mouth was slack around the gag, and blood began to pool, soaking into the auburn hair.

And then, Spencer felt the gun at the back of his own head. He stilled, and lifted his eyes to the camera. His heart slammed against his ribs, tears rolled down his face and he sobbed once… ‘Logan’. And then it came.

The clap of thunder, the white hot flash behind his eyes and then he was falling forwards and—

He blinked. 

Spencer blinked again and sat frozen, staring at his own body before him on the ground, the face twisted in horror, but eyes blank… blood was pooling around his head and mingling with the blood around Remy’s… 

Remy…

Spencer turned and stared into Remy’s eyes… the man was still there, kneeling beside him, looking just as shocked and on the verge of hyperventilating.

And the camera stopped. The bodies and blood on the floor shimmered like a mirage, and then disappeared. Remy and Spencer looked at each other again, and then to the silvery girl. Her eyes were indeed glowing, and then returned to normal.

“Was that satisfactory?” She asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

“Let’s see.” Elise said, and everyone looked at the computer screen on the desk. Spencer and Remy watched in horror as the message was given and the shot was fired. Remy’s forehead exploded outwards as his body crashed to the floor. Spencer jerked and screamed, staring in horror at Remy’s body, and then he, too, was gunned down. Executed. And on the video… the Remy and Spencer that had still been kneeling, weren’t seen. Only the bodies. And the blood.

“Perfect.” Elise nodded, and pulled the USB drive, turning and placing it in a plain cardboard box. Then she made her way over to Spencer and Remy, who were just gaping. The men converged and removed their scarves from their mouths.

“… W-What de hell was dat?!” Remy blurted.

“My message.” She said, then reached out, grabbed the front of his button down shirt and jerked, popping the buttons and ripping it open, then pushing it off of his shoulders and down to his elbows, taking his trench coat with it. One arm was jerked up by the elbow and she trailed her fingers down his triceps, tracing a vein that stood out on the smooth hide. And then, she dug into it with her claws. Remy winced and hissed as the blood poured, and she held up his scarf, catching it… soaking the material in it. Once there was a large amount on the scarf she turned and laid it in the box with the flash drive and moved to Spencer, while one of the men bandaged Remy’s arm. 

“EY! Stay away from ‘im! Don’t y’ touch ‘im!” Remy shouted, struggling, but she ignored him and was soon soaking Spencer’s scarf in his own blood. Then he too was bandaged, watching in silence as she placed his scarf in the box, taped it up and handed it to a man, who took it and left. Then she looked at Remy and Spencer. She stared at them for a while, and then just turned around and walked away, calling “just make sure they’re never found.” And then she was gone…

Slowly, Spencer and Remy turned to stare at the man in the suit, Anthony, who was drinking from a water bottle and eying them with a satisfied look on his face.

“So… the Wolverine’s mates, hm? That outta attract some VERY interested buyers… Think I’ll sell you two as a set.” He grinned then. “Alright boys… Pack them up. Let’s get out of here.” And he turned and walked away. Remy and Spencer glanced at each other. Spencer’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, but Remy didn’t heed his silent warning. 

The Cajun leapt into the air, executing an acrobatic Butterfly kick, sending two men to the ground. Then he leapt forward, tucked and rolled, bringing his bound hands in front of him, coming up to his feet and taking out another thug with a spinning heel kick.

“REMY!” Spencer cried as he felt an arm wrap around his throat and drag him back. Remy whirled and snarled at the man holding a gun to Spencer’s head.

“Y’ ain’t gonna do it, homme.” He growled.

“No.” Drawled Anthony, returning to the scene when he heard the commotion. “He’s not going to kill your little fuck buddy over there. But that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt him.” And he nodded. The man holding Spencer lowered the gun and pressed it against his thigh. “That won’t kill him. But it’ll hurt like a bitch.” 

Remy glared, eyes blazing. “… Gonna kill y’ m’self…” 

“Sure you are.” Anthony yawned, then slid a hand into his pocket as he approached Remy, eyeing him up and down. “Feh… filthy mutant…” He huffed, then jabbed something into Remy’s side.

Spencer winced at the crackling of the taser and his lover’s strangled yell as he threw his head back and his knees buckled, sending him crashing to the ground. Anthony eyed him, then, in a sudden vicious movement, slammed his foot into Remy’s stomach. The Cajun yelped and heaved, then writhed weakly. Anthony just smirked and shook his head, pocketing the taser and leaving the room again. His hired thugs surrounded Remy’s body and dragged him to his feet, though not without throwing a few punches just to make a point on who was in charge, and then Spencer and Remy were both marched from the room…


	3. Chapter 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been nearly twelve hours since Spencer and Remy had stepped outside of a club in Manhattan, and vanished. Logan was NOT happy. He paced back and forth, growling as he waited. A moment later, and the doors into Cerebro opened. Logan whirled, and Rogue, Scott and Alex looked up. Xavier emerged. But Logan knew immediately that he hadn’t found anything. There was no smile. He was still tense. He looked tired as he locked eyes with Logan. He didn’t even get a change to say something. Logan let out a frustrated snarl and turned, stalking up the corridor.

“Logan! Where are you going?!” Scott called.

“Out!” Logan snapped.

“What?! Where?!”

“I’m gonna go find ‘em!”

“Logan!” Scott groaned. “We can’t have you wandering aimlessly all over the place! We—“ He stopped for a moment. “… Logan, STOP!”

The feral froze, and growling, turned to glare. But before he could snap back at Scott, the man said “Jean says we need to get to the War Room. Now.” Without a word, everyone followed. Logan was the first there. Jean and Storm were standing at the end of the table with their heads together. Betsy, Warren, Hank, Lorna, Kitty, Kurt, Piotr, Jubilee and Bobby were all in their seats.

“What is it?” Xavier asked as he rolled in on Scott’s heels, Rogue and Alex following behind him.

“This was… found at the front gate.” Jean said softly, and looked at a plain cardboard box on the table. Large block letters in black marker read ‘WOLVERINE’.

“… Oh God…” Rogue moaned, biting her lip in worry. Logan slowly approached, as tense as any of them had ever seen him. A single claw slid out and he sliced open the packaging tape, and then he froze, his nostrils flaring. With a loud snarl, he seized the box and tore it in two. Everyone stared at the two scarves, soaked in blood. 

Logan was immediately seizing them in his fists, and a choked sound escaped his throat. He was trembling in his rage, and his knuckles were white as he clutched the bloodstained fabric and raised them to his face, sniffing them desperately.

“Is it…?” Ororo managed to ask, softly. Her answer was a low growl, that was steadily getting louder as gold flickered in Logan’s eyes.

“Look.” Kitty called, kneeling from where she had gone to collect one of the halves of the box that Logan had flung aside.

“What is it?” Xavier asked.

“A flash drive.” She said, walking over the computer and plugging it in.

The screen of the computer was dark, but there was music playing. Soft piano… And then the image appeared.

“Oh mah God!” Rogue cried, and Storm gasped, hand flying to her throat, “No… oh no.”

Cyclops’ mouth had dropped open and Nightcrawler was clasping his hands.

Spencer and Remy were on the screen, facing the camera and kneeling on the floor, gagged by their own scarves and with their wrists bound behind them. And behind the pair stood a man wearing a ski mask, holding the gun. He spoke then, his voice carrying over the continued piano music.

“This message is for the Wolverine.” He raised the gun, and pointed it at the back of Remy’s head.

“Oh no, don’t!” Jubilee cried, clinging to Kitty.

“Consider this payback for your rejections and lies…”

The shot was deafening, and several screams went up in the War Room. They could only watch Remy’s body lurch forward as the blood exploded from his forehead, and he hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Spencer was screaming into his gag then, his eyes wide and on Remy’s body. Then the man turned and pressed the gun to Spencer’s head. His body went still and silent, and then he slowly raised his eyes and stared into the camera, terror in his face as tears fell from his eyes. Then he let out a single sob, and though muffled, no one could deny that he had cried out Logan’s name…

And then the second shot rang out. Spencer immediately pitched forwards in a shower of blood and crumpled to the floor. 

The room was silent as the image remained on the screen… the man with the gun standing over the two bodies, the pools of their blood merging into one large mess, even as the blank faces stared at one another in death. And then, the screen went black.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room and no one was breathing. Shock had frozen them all in time.

Jean was the first to snap out of it. She twitched and then turned, her eyes widening. 

“Charles… Logan!” She blurted, and all attention turned to Logan.

The man stood there, the scarves still clutched in his fists as he stared at the screen. He was trembling violently and tears streamed down his face. His breathing was harsh, fast and shallow, and as they watched, his eyes flashed gold and his claws snapped out.

“LOGAN!” Xavier shouted in alarm and the X-Men were all leaping up from their seats, preparing to defend themselves, but even as they did, Kurt was leaping over the table and landed on Logan’s back, instantly disappearing with him in a cloud of smoke.

“Danger Room.” Xavier, Jean, Betsy and Emma all blurted. Everyone ran. When they got to the Danger Room Observation Deck, Kurt was already there, pulling up a scenario. Moments later, the Danger Room had turned into the coniferous forests of Canada, and the Wolverine was rampaging through it, screaming out his rage, grief, fury and pain…

“… That was good thinking, Kurt.” Scott announced, looking at Nightcrawler in admiration. “Putting him in a natural setting will help soothe him, and putting him in the Danger Room instead of just outside means we know where he is, and that he won’t hurt anyone…”

But now that the crisis had been averted, the reality of the situation came crashing down.

It was Rogue who broke down first. She whimpered, and then covered her face with her hands as she sunk down to her knees and sobbed. Storm immediately knelt beside her, wrapping her arms around the Southern Belle and weeping into her hair. But even Storm’s dignified tears eventually turned into agonized sobs of grief.

Jubilee and Kitty were the next to break down, and then Kurt bowed his head and clasped his hands, praying softly even as the tears ran down his face. Scott held Jean, his face buried in her hair, and Colossus slammed his fist into the wall before storming out of the room.

Warren had never liked Remy, but even his wings were drooping as he stared off into space. Betsy had her head down, and her fists clenched tightly.

Emma leaned over the console and stared down into the Danger Room, her eyes sad as she listened to the mournful howls of the Wolverine. 

“We must find out who did this.” She said in a low tone. “They must pay…”

“Revenge isn’t the answer…” Hank McCoy told her, gently.

“I never said revenge.” She countered, his voice hard. “Justice. This was a Double Homicide. If we can find out who did this…”

“Who the hell…” Rogue sniffled and hiccupped, “would have the balls to… to do what they did?!”

“Who did Logan piss off?” Bobby asked.

“Where do we start?” Scott drawled, finally lifting his head.

“And where are their bodies?” Everyone turned and looked at Bishop, who had been silent. “Why send just the video, and the scarves?”

“Easier to send.” Warren tossed out immediately. “Transporting bodies is risky. Odds are, they were dumped.”

“They could have even been destroyed…” Betsy reasoned.

“Ironic…” Kitty said softly. “This is right up… Spencer’s alley…”

“Could we, I dunno… call his… team?” Jubilee offered, her voice still tight from crying.

“No.” Xavier said firmly. “Not yet. We will have to decide how to notify them. They know nothing of Spencer’s being a mutant, and we can’t afford to have FBI Agents with a Vendetta putting too much focus on us… No. Unless the bodies are found, we need to keep this strictly in house.”

“But they’re gonna notice when he doesn’t go back!” Jubilee pointed out.

“We’ll deal with that when we need to.” Scott said quietly. “For now… we have to focus on Logan…” And everyone turned their gaze back into the Danger Room, where the Wolverine could still be heard, howling…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For Spencer’s sake, Remy had decided to co-operate with their captors for the time being… When he came to, Spencer told him that they had been travelling for hours. And when they arrived it was to find themselves being unloaded into a large cargo bay, and all the doors were sealed. There were no windows. They had no way of knowing where they were. They were marched down several long corridors and then released in a communal bathroom, where they were told they had ten minutes to shower.

The pair obeyed silently, shooting each other glances every now and then as they bathed. When they were done and had toweled themselves dry, they were each given a simple pair of black pants with drawstrings a gray tank top and nothing else. They dressed, and were led down a narrow corridor, and guided into a cell. It was made of concrete, with a chest height partition behind which a toilet was neatly tucked, and the wall opposite the door was a thick glass. Looking out, they could see that they were in a long hall full of cells like theirs. Some were empty, but others appeared to be inhabited. The one across and one down from them had a pile of gray blankets in the corner, rising and falling as the cell’s occupant breathed.

One of the men escorting them carried what appeared to be remote control of some kind. After he punched a few buttons, a large metal frame rose out of the floor in the middle of the room, composed of a single vertical pillar, and a horizontal bar set on top. Remy growled “How we ‘sposed t’ use de head if’n we be tied up?!” as he and Spencer were dragged over and forced to their knees on either side of the frame, their backs pressed against it. Their arms were jerked up and out and bound to the ends of the horizontal bar. 

Not a word was spoken to them. They were simply left there, the door locking after their captors had left the room.

“… FUCK!”

Spencer winced as Remy’s vicious exclamation, and turned his head slightly.

“Do you think Logan has… gotten the… package?” He asked, softly.

“… ‘dunno…” Remy sighed, thumping his head back against the metal frame and looking around at their cell. Then he started thrashing and fighting his bonds, shouting “Merde! Gon’ kill dat putain when we get outta here!”

“Do you know who she is?” Reid asked. “How she knows Logan? What he did to piss her off?”

“No idea, mon soleil…” Remy confessed, and sounding very annoyed about it. “But firs’ t’ings firs’… we gotta get de hell outta here an’ get back to Logan… pronto! Dat sick video may not be de only t’ing she got planned fo’ our Wolvie…”

“Hell hath no fury…” Reid sighed, and then his eyes widened. “… like… a woman scorned… a woman rejected…? ‘This message is for the Wolverine. Consider this payback for your rejections and lies’. He rejected her!”

“… quoi?!”

“He rejected her! She did this out of revenge for the rejection, and to eliminate the competition! Us!”

Remy twisted his head to the side, a skeptical look on his face. “You sho’ ‘bout dat?”

Spencer turned his own head and looked at Remy out of the corner of his eyes. “It makes sense.”

“Explains de ‘rejections’ part, but… What about de ‘lies’ part?”

“I don’t know about that…” Spencer admitted, sighing and rolling his eyes up to stare distantly at the ceiling as he contemplated. “Maybe… he turned her down and told her he was already mated… but as males, she doesn’t see us as valid?”

"Could be.” Remy admitted, then sighed. For a long time, they were silent, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Remy shifted uncomfortably.

“… ‘Dis sucks.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Logan?” Jean called gently, as she moved through the forest, Nightcrawler shadowing her from overhead in the higher branches. In her hands was a tray.

It had been three days since they had locked Logan in the Danger Room. Three times a day, Nightcrawler would teleport in and leave food and water for the feral. Today, Jean would try to reach him, and bring Logan forward once more.

She had been searching for him for ten minutes when she stopped in her tracks, her eyes sweeping the dark forest, the snow falling silently around her. He was near. She could feel him.

Scott, Ororo, Emma and Xavier were watching from the Observation Deck.

'To your left,' Jean heard Emma say, and Jean turned her eyes. And sure enough, after a moment of adjusting to the gloom, her gaze picked up the dark hulk, and the yellow eyes…

“Logan… lunch.” She said gently and slowly knelt, setting the tray down on the ground. Then she backed away from it until she bumped into a tree, and there she slid down to seat herself upon the ground, her arms draped around her legs which were drawn up against her chest.

She gently touched the Wolverine’s mind, and the feral tensed and let out a low snarl, warning her off. She didn’t retreat, but she didn’t press, either. She began to do the telepathic equivalent of gently stroking and petting him. The Wolverine bristled and began to pace back and forth through the murky shadows, pausing every now and then to inspect her, and the tray of food. 

After nearly fifteen minutes, he finally began to shuffle forwards on all fours, nostrils quivering as he scented the area around him. Jean rewarded him with a telepathic embrace, giving him a sense of joy and welcome. He paused and growled at that, but moved further into the clearing. He was almost to the tray now, but his eyes were on Jean.

She was inspecting him back. His clothes hung from his body in ragged tatters that were spattered with blood. Jean had the sad realization that Logan had used his claws on himself. But sadder still, were the blood soaked scarves that he had tied around his biceps… keeping what he had left of his mates with him at all times…

Logan had reached the tray then… he lowered his head, sniffing, never taking his eyes off of her, and then snatched a slice of roast beef in his teeth and bolted for the cover of the trees again. Jean sighed, listening to him noisily gobble down the meat, and a few minutes later, he was sitting at the treeline again, considering the additional slices on the plate. This time, he ambled in with a bit less caution, and he only returned to the treeline to eat the second piece. The third piece he only shuffled a few steps back to eat, and after that, he remained at the tray, finishing off the beef and then sniffing at the baked beans, potato salad and slaw. He turned his nose up at them and shoved his face into the water bowl, also ignoring the two water bottles for now.

Once the water bowl was empty, he just crouched where he was and stared at Jean for a bit before he went after the beans and potato salad. He paused for a moment when she began to speak to him out loud, but then continued to devour the food, keeping his eyes on her.

“I know you’re in there, Logan… And I know that maybe… you’re not ready to come back yet. What’s happened… it’s the most incredible pain in the world. And you’re trying to hide from it, but it’s not working, is it? You’re still hurting. You’re lost and angry and in so much agony. But Logan, honey… you’re not alone. We’re still here for you. All of us. And we always will be. We love you, Logan. You’re family. You’re a father, a brother, a son… to so many people here. You’ve always been the strong one. The one that people can lean on. Well, now it’s time for you to lean on us. Let yourself fall if you have to; we’ll catch you. We are… grieving with you. Grieving for you. But we will be strong. For you.”

She trailed off, and stared at the Wolverine. The plate had been licked clean of everything but the cole slaw, and now he was sitting there, staring right back at her.

“Logan?”

The Wolverine narrowed his eyes and rumbled a warning, then backed away before turning and disappearing into the woods. And this time he kept going. She knew he would be returning to whatever den he had found for himself. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she called “alright, Kurt.” And she stood and moved to collect the tray. 

Light and nimble, Kurt made his way to the forest floor, placed a hand on her arm and teleported them into the Danger Room’s Observation Deck.

“Well.” Scott said when they appeared. “That went better than I expected.”

“… Seriously?” Emma asked, quirking a brow.

“I thought it would take a few tries to get him to sit and eat with Jean nearby.” Scott clarified.

“So what now?” Emma asked, following Jean out and towards the elevator.

“Rinse and Repeat.” Jean responded with a smile. “Every meal. Until the Wolverine steps aside and Logan comes forward.” Emma looked at Jean in dismay, and Jean said, a laugh in her tone, “It’s like trying to gain the trust of a wild animal. You have to go slow and easy. At his pace. Otherwise, you’ll just drive him further away.”

“… This is going to try my patience…” Emma groaned, already delicately massaging her temples.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! There is a gang rape scene in this chapter! Proceed with caution. You have been warned.

“One week.”

“Quoi?”

“We’ve been here for one week.” Spencer stated, and Remy sighed. The pair were on their knees, arms out and bound to the metal T frame. After the first day, they had been released from it, and were given run of the empty room. The pair slept curled up together in a pile of thin blankets in the corner. But whenever there was a buyer in the facility, they were bound to the frame.

It didn’t take long to realize that they were in a facility that specifically catered to Mutant Trafficking. Several mutants had come and gone over the last week, and several times, Anthony, the man in charge, was seen walking down the corridor lined with the windowed cells, pointing at the inhabitants and speaking to some wealthy man, or woman, once, about the mutants that were for sale. Many had paused and gazed in at Spencer and Remy with a sick, coveting expression… but they were being sold as a pair, and their price tag had thus far been beyond the means of the people looking to procure the “merchandise”. 

Twice over the last four days, Remy had been beaten for mouthing off or being defiant. It was stressing Spencer out to no end. Every time someone so much as looked at him with any kind of expression that Remy didn’t like, Remy was jumping in. There were times when Spencer was released from his bonds, and Remy wasn’t… twice, he had been left bound to the frame on his knees, all night. Both times, Spencer had brought the thin blankets over to cover Remy as much as he could, and he himself slept snuggled up against him.

“Assholes, ten o’clock. Eh… four f’ you, cher.” Remy announced suddenly. Anthony was bringing buyers down the corridor. “… I’m gonna do it.”

Spencer immediately tensed. “DON’T YOU DARE!” He shouted. Only the previous day, Remy had pledged to make the most unattractive, outlandish faces at the next buyer that came through. Anthony had told him he would regret it. Remy had said “bring it”.

“He deserves it!” Remy protested.

“But what happens if you push him over the edge?!” Spencer snapped. “What if he decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth?! He could kill you! And where would that leave me?”

Remy was silent. 

“Say it, Remy. Where would that leave me?!”

“… Alone.”

“Yes.” Spencer nearly growled. “Don’t you DARE leave me alone. You’re our best chance of escape. And even if I were to escape on my own, I would have to go back to Logan. ALONE. And tell him that you…” He trailed off, swallowing. “Don’t you dare do that to me… I will never forgive you…”

“… alrigh’, Nightlight…” Remy murmured softly. “Alrigh’. I won’t.” There was a pause and then, “Oh… dis ain’t good…”

“What?” Spencer asked.

“Dey ain’t lookin’ at everyt’ing here, cher… dey look like dey be comin’ straight fo’ us…” Remy elaborated, his voice tight. Spencer turned, and finally saw the group come into his line of sight. Anthony was looking very eager, and beside him, was a tall brunette woman, on a cell phone. Behind her were five men, all in dark suits, all Asian. The men eyed the mutants in the cell, and the woman stepped closer, inspecting them critically and speaking into her phone. After a moment, she turned and looked at Anthony. He blinked and then gave her an oily smile and nodded, saying something back. And then they were walking away.

“… Got a bad feelin’ ‘bout dis, me…” Remy said in a low tone.

“Me too…” Spencer mumbled. Only a few minutes later, and the door to their cell opened, and Anthony walked in with two guards, the woman and the five men with her. The woman was speaking in a dialect that Remy didn’t recognize, but Spencer logged it as Cantonese. She approached them and brought the phone away from her face and pointed it at the pair, slowly walking around them in a circle, filming them from every angle. Every now and then, a male voice came from the phone, asking a question, and the woman would answer.

After a moment, she returned to Anthony, leaned over and murmured to him in his ear.

“Of course.” He simply said, and she turned and walked over, first kneeling before Remy. She held up the phone, and Remy knew she was showing whoever was on the other end his face… his eyes… He narrowed them and glared fiercely. She smirked slightly, amused, then reached out to push his hair out of his face. Remy lunged, and the woman yelped and fell back as his teeth narrowly missed her hand. She stared at Remy, eyes wide, and exclaimed something. The man on the other end of the phone was heard roaring with laughter, and then saying something.

“What?” Anthony asked. A little smile on her face, the woman got to her feet and said “He admires this one’s fire. He looks forward to hearing him scream…” 

“Like hell, bitch!” Remy snarled, and spat at her feet.

One of the thugs employed by Anthony scowled and moved forward, but she simply smiled and waved him off. Then she moved around to Spencer. He watched her warily, but didn’t move, even when she reached out and pushed his hair out of his face. Her smile widened and she cooed something, making the man on the phone chuckle and say something that sounded teasing. But then he asked something else. She blinked, then looked up at Anthony and said “He wants to see all of them.”

“Fine.” Anthony nodded, and his two man goon squad stepped forward, one pulling a knife.

“NON!” Remy shouted, fighting. “Don’t! Don’t hurt ‘im!”

“We aren’t.” the woman said calmly, watching Spencer as the men approached. Now he tensed, sucking in a breath and his eyes widening as he tried to shuffle away from them. 

“No… No, don’t… please…” He gasped, struggling as his shirt was cut away and removed from his body, his nipples hardening and goosebumps rising as his flesh was exposed to the cold room. And then, as the two men went to remove Remy’s shirt, the woman just smiled at Reid, and reached for the drawstring of his pants. “No! STOP! DON’T!!!”

“EY!!!” Remy roared, twisting and trying to see what was happening. “Get yo’ hands OFFA HIM!” And then he moved. Using his bound wrists as leverage, Remy was off of his knees and in a crouch, swinging a leg out and sweeping the two mens’ legs out from under them, sending them crashing to the floor. One of them let out a howl of pain as he landed on his knife…

Anthony jerked forwards, horrified, but Remy was still moving. He swung himself to one side as far as he could go, and threw a vicious rear kick back, his foot whispering past Spencer’s ribs and his heel catching the woman in the face, sending her reeling back with an angry shout of pain.

“REMY!” Spencer cried, fear rising in him for his partner. The room was in chaos. The five silent men who had come with the woman were now rushing forward, helping her to her feet and checking her injuries. Anthony was looking murderous as his uninjured man pinned Remy to the metal frame with a hand to his throat.

“ENOUGH!” The woman was finally shouting, and everyone quieted down. She knelt and picked up the phone, speaking into it. Then she was silent for a moment before looking at Anthony. “He says he will take them.” She announced in a cold tone, and narrowed her eyes at Remy. “This one is to be punished. Immediately.” And then she looked at Spencer. “And made an example to this one…” Remy’s eyes narrowed, and Spencer’s widened. He swiveled his head around to see Anthony’s response.

The man didn’t even hesitate. “Done.” He declared, “tell your employer that I will start to prepare to have them shipped to Hong Kong.”

“HONG KONG?!” Remy howled at his retreating back. “Oh, HELL no!!!” The man holding him by the throat released him and stepped back, turning to assist his injured comrade out of the cell. The woman was moving around to face Remy now, a rather worrying look of pleasure on her face now.

“My employer will not tolerate your defiance. Though I daresay that he is counting on it… For now, however… know that if you fight, your penalty will be shared with your…” She glanced over at Reid and sneered, “lover…”

Remy’s wrists were released from their bonds and he was seized by four of the five men that had accompanied the woman. At first, he just snarled at them, but then one of them brazenly grabbed his backside, a hand was stroking his chest and then his genitals were being fondled. Compliance immediately went out the window for Remy LeBeau as panic flared up like a match struck in a room full of gas.

Spencer twisted around in alarm when he heard Remy’s furious shriek, and the commotion. Remy had been lifted off of the ground by the rough hands on his arms and legs, and they were carrying him, thrashing and fighting, over and in front of Spencer. Spencer just watched in horror as Remy’s body arched and writhed, as he continued to shout in an angry mix of English and Cajun French. Spencer could feel his heart pounding as he heard the complete and utter panic in his lover, and then winced when Remy’s body was slammed down onto the floor on his back, knocking the wind out of him. 

The Cajun lay there, struggling to breathe, completely unaware as his pants were roughly jerked down and torn away. He finally was able to gasp and draw breath, regaining his senses just in time for strong fists to grip his shirt and rip it open, exposing his chest.

“G-GET DE FUCK OFF!” He shouted, then yelped as his head whipped to side, courtesy of a rough backhanded strike to his cheek.

“NO!” Spencer cried, struggling to get free as he watched Remy’s wrists being pinned down to the concrete floor over his head by rough hands, and his legs were wrenched apart. “STOP!!! LET GO OF HIM!!!” The woman gave Reid a sharp glare, and he gasped when she slapped him across the face. 

“You will remain silent.” She ordered, still focusing on holding her phone so that her employer could watch his new… acquisition, being punished.

“NO! Don’t do this, please!” Reid begged. The woman eyed him, and then turned and spoke to the men in Cantonese. One of them, who had moved to kneel between Remy’s legs, glanced up at her, then looked down at Remy and backhanded him again.

“DON’T!” Reid cried, and the man looked at him, and backhanded Remy across the face again. “DAMMIT!!! STOP IT YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!!!” The man seemed to grin in delight, and this time brought his hand back and forth, belting Remy across the face five more times. Remy lay with his head turned towards Spencer now, dazed by the hits.

Now that he was still, having stopped his struggling for a moment, two of the men moved on either side and pinned his legs as the fifth simply circled, like a vulture. Remy blinked himself back into awareness when he heard the sound of a belt buckle jingling, and then a zipper. He focused and looked at Reid.

“Non…” He gasped, staring at the agonized look on Reid’s face. “Look away, mon soleil…” Remy said. “Don’t watch dis…”

Reid hissed when the woman seized his hair in her fist and shook his head, saying “No. You will watch. Every moment. Every detail. You WILL watch. If you look away, it will only make it worse for him.”

Remy whimpered in heartbreak when he saw the tears rolling down Spencer’s cheeks as the Cajun was manhandled into position, and then Spencer whispered, “I’m sorry, Remy… I’m so sorry.”

Remy wanted to answer. Wanted to reassure him. But all he could do was howl as the man between his legs forced his way in, without warning. He thrashed, arching off of the floor as he raged “Fils de pu-- AH!! Je vais vous tuer putain!!!” Vaguely, he heard Spencer screaming… shouting threats and curses at the men hurting the Cajun, and Remy could only yelp as he was struck in the face over and over again, until he tasted blood. Spencer’s shouts had broken apart into desperate sobs and pleas, begging them to stop their assault.

Remy’s head was spinning when the man between his legs finally finished and moved away. He renewed his efforts to escape the hands gripping him when he was forced to move. Still cursing viciously at the top of his lungs, he was flipped over and shoved face first into the floor and forced up onto his knees. He tried to kick back when he was mounted, and caught one man in the shoulder and sent him spinning to the floor, but his leg was quickly pinned. He thrashed once more as his hips were seized and he felt the next man lining himself up, but all he could do was bite back a yelp when the man shoved into him.

Then a hand was in his hair and he was on his hands and knees, and his head was twisted to look at the woman, who fisted her hand in Spencer’s hair, bringing a startled yip from the young man. “You bite…” She said, coldly. “And they do HIM next…”

Remy glared at her, eyes blazing, and then snarled when the man before him opened his pants. But he took the threat seriously… no way in hell would he let this happen to Spencer. It was bad enough that Spencer had to see it being done to him… Remy didn’t know what was stronger… his shame or rage… But it was easy to say what he felt more than anything… past the physical and emotional damage being inflicted upon him in this cruel gang rape… past his humiliation, anger and self loathing, that he was once again unable to stop this from happening to himself… the strongest thing, the thing that he clung to, was his love for Spencer… and his need to protect him. To get him, to get them both, back home safe. 

Fighting back his own tears as a hand reached beneath him and stroked him into arousal, Remy focused on the idea of protecting Spencer… Of sparing him from a similar fate, or any other harm that these people may do to him. He was determined not to let anyone harm a hair on Spencer’s head, no matter what they did to him. He clung tightly to this throughout his own unwanted orgasm, cringing as his assaulters laughed and taunted him, even smearing his own semen over his face, and making him lick it off of their fingers.

Remy held on to this for what felt like hours. He kept telling himself that the worst part was hearing Spencer cry… seeing the agony in his eyes as he was unable to stop what was happening to the man he loved. Eventually, in a moment where his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, Remy found himself saying “Spencer…? C'est bon. Vous pouvez détourner le regard . Je vais bien. Ces gars-là devront faire bien pire . Après Creed , ceci est rien. Maintenant, regardez loin . S'il t’ plaît, mon soleil, por moi… ne plus regarder… s’il t’ plait… 

Spencer’s eyes filled with renewed tears and he sobbed, but then nodded and closed his eyes, turning his head away as Remy’s words echoed in his skull… he would never be able to get those words out of his mind again… they would haunt him in his nightmares for years to come… 

‘Spencer…? It's alright. You can look away. I'm fine. These guys will have to do a lot worse. After Creed, this is nothing. Now look away. Please, my sun, for me… don’t watch anymore… please…’

The woman snarled and grabbed Spencer’s hair, shaking his head viciously, but Spencer didn’t open his eyes. She slapped him across the face. He cried out, his eyes fluttering open for a moment before snapping shut again. She glared, then looked at the men abusing Remy and nodded.

Remy fought hard not to cry out when the attacks on his body became more brutal. More painful. He wouldn’t let Spencer hear it from his lips, though he knew Spencer could hear it in the sounds from the men assaulting Remy… from the sounds their bodies made as the assault continued for what felt like hours, and hours and hours… the entire horrifying event reached its crescendo with a cruel hand grabbing the Genoshan Slave Collar that was around Remy’s neck and pulling it back, mercilessly choking the Cajun. He fought… God, he fought. But he had been robbed of his breath, and the world was soon spinning and going dark. He was not afraid, he knew they wouldn’t kill him, but he could only open his mouth in a silent scream at the final painful stab into his depths as his attacker came into him, and then, just like that, it was all over.

He crashed to the floor, gasping for breath as his attackers slowly backed away. His head was swimming, and he never noticed them putting themselves back together or leaving the room. He winced when the woman approached, snatching a handful of his hair and jerking his head up, making him look her in the eye. She smirked down at him. 

“My employer owns you now.” She told him. “He told me to give you a message. He likes your fire, and will enjoy beating it out of you… You are nothing but a slave now. He looks forward to your arrival… he will personally carve that into your pretty face…” And she ran a finger down Remy’s temple, cheek and jaw, before she let go and his head fell to the floor with a solid thud. Everything went dark and quiet as his body surrendered and he passed out.

It could have been seconds, or even days, when he woke again. He groaned slightly at the pain in his body… no, it was too fresh. He had only been out for a few minutes, if even that… he could hear Spencer crying, only to stop and gasp when Remy began to stir.

“Remy?” The Cajun blinked his eyes open at the desperate call, and lifted his head.

“Hey dere, Nightlight…” He croaked, and gave his companion a smile. Spencer broke down, straining against the bonds on his wrists, trying to get to the Cajun where he had been left tossed on the floor. Remy gathered himself and pushed himself up to his hands and knees, hissing slightly.

“Connards…” He growled, and began to crawl towards the other mutant. “S’alrigh’, Spencer…” He said, trying to reassure his frantic mate. “Gon’ take a helluva lot mo’ dan dat ta break dis Cajun…” And he smiled again, finally reaching Spencer. He sat up on his knees and raised his hands, resting them on Spencer’s face and brushing away his tears with his thumbs, even as he pressed their foreheads together. “Gon’ be fine. Guarantee ya… dis didn’t do near de damage to ol’ Gambit dat dey planned it to. Stronger dan dat, me. Still here. Still ready t’ fight. Don’t matte’ what dey do o’ where dey take us… gon’ get us out, and get us home, y’ hear me, Nightlight? Don’t yo’ give up on Remy, oui?”

“Never…” Spencer gasped, hands twitching as he longed to hold the other man.

“An’ Remy never give up on YOU.” Gambit told him, then, wincing, moved to lie down beside Spencer.

“Are you okay?!” Spencer cried.

“Oui.” Remy assured him, though his voice was tight. “Gon’ be a bit sore, me. But Remy be fine. Jus’… need a rest, oui?” And he rested his head down on Spencer’s thighs, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist even as he drew up his knees, curling up into the most protected position he could be in. 

“Spencer?”

“Yes?” Spencer gasped, staring down at the man curled up on the floor with his head in the boy’s lap. 

“Y’ know dat place b’tween sleep an’ awake, dat place where y’ still remember dreamin’?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smile, even as tears sparkled in his eyes again. He nodded and said “that’s where I’ll always love you… that’s where I’ll be waiting.” Remy smiled slightly, dragging the blanket over himself and settling in to sleep.

“I love you, Remy…”

“Je sais… je taime, aussi, mon soleil… je taime assui…”

And Spencer was quiet as Remy drifted into a restless sleep. But they were only given a couple of hours before Anthony was back with two other thugs. He glared at the pair, narrowing his eyes when Remy slowly raised his head from Spencer’s lap and moved into a crouch.

“You’re going for a shower.” Anthony said tersely. “If either of you makes trouble, you BOTH get penalized.”

“No trouble.” Spencer said immediately, giving Remy a meaningful glare. The Cajun huffed, but then gave a curt not, agreeing. Remy growled as he was jerked to his feet and dragged from the room, and once released, Spencer followed amiably, though he watched Remy’s every limping step with worried eyes. Once they were pushed into the showers, he immediately ran to Remy and caught the man, as the shove had made him stumble. Remy grunted as he was immediately embraced, tightly, and with a smile, he hugged Spencer back.

“S’alrigh’, cher.” He said in a soft tone. “M’ alrigh’. Promise…”

“Fifteen minutes.” Anthony snapped, and they were locked in.

Spencer was immediately tugging Remy over to the showers and turning them on, getting them warm before he pushed the Cajun under the stream and started to bathe him, inspecting every scrape and bruise that marred his skin. A bemused grin on his face, Remy halfheartedly tried to fight Spencer off, saying “Remy can bathe hisself, Spencer! Git off!” Spencer gave him a fierce scowl, and Remy raised a brow. “Now yo’ jus’ bein cute, mon petit chatton.” Remy drawled, making Reid huff and spin the man around.

“I… I need to… check you.” Spencer finally murmured, sounding very embarrassed.

“Remy be fine!”

“I need to make sure!”

“… Pfft. Alrigh’. Fo’ yo’ own peace o’ mind.” Remy sighed. “… Should Remy drop de soap, firs’?”

“REMY!”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’!” Remy laughed, bracing his hands on the wall and leaning over slightly as he spread his legs.

“I’m… going to use some soap…”

“… L’enfer…” Remy growled.

“What?”

“Dat’s gonna sting, Spencer!” Remy whined.

“I know… I’m sorry…” Spencer murmured. “But… if you have abrasions, they need to be cleaned out anyway.”

“… Alrigh’… jus’ get it ove’ wit’…”

“If you need me to stop...”

“Safety Word.”

“REMY!!!”

“Desole! Je sais. Remy speak up…”

Spencer stood there and fidgeted a moment, very unhappy, but he finally slipped his fingers in and Remy tensed and hissed. “You alright?”

“Burns.” Remy stated.

“How do you feel?”

“… ‘bout like when Wolvie get a bit rough.”

“He’s always rough.”

“Rough fo’ him.” Remy chuckled. “Feel like it was de Wolverine dat gave me a poundin’… as ‘pposed t’ Logan.”

“Okay.” Spencer nodded, understanding that, and withdrew his fingers. Remy slowly relaxed, reached for the soap and began to bathe himself. After a moment, he paused and turned. “Quoi?” He asked, seeing Spencer staring at him funny. 

“You’ve… actually… had sex with… The Wolverine? His… feral side?”

“Mais oui.” Remy nodded. “De Wolverine knows us as his mates, jus’ as Logan does. Some of Logan’s more… silly overprotective b’havior actually come from de Wolverine.”

“But… the Wolverine is… violent and—“

“De Wolverine be violent cuz usually de only time he comes out is when de shit’s hit de fan, cher. But he’s come out a few times wit’ ol’ Remy. Logan let him loose.”

“Really?” Spencer asked, looking amazed.

“De Wolverine… he love us, Spencer.” Remy told him with a smile. “Jus’ as much as Logan. An’ he wanna be wit’ us too. De sex was rough, oui. Only done it twice. Two of de wildest rides ol’ Gambit EVER had…” And his smile became a wicked grin. “Two of de BEST rides Gambit’s eve’ had… But, uh… can’t really walk de next day, oui?” And he chuckled at Reid’s blush. “Dat don’t mean he was mean. De Wolverine jus’ intense, cher. But Remy’s empathy… could feel everyt’in’. De Wolverine’s feelin’s were raw, primal and almost mo’ dan Remy could take. But dey was… magnifique… incroyable…” He sighed and tilted his head back as he washed his hair. “Dere was… lust. Desire. Admiration… De Wolverine admired dis Cajun’s body…” And he cocked his head and winked at Spencer. “Was... protective an’ possessive. And t’rough it all, don’t neve’ doubt it… was love. De Wolverine’s love. It be passionate, deep an’ powerful. Made Remy want to… laugh, an’ cry an’ t’ank de good Lord fo’ de life he gave dis Cajun… Didn’t want de moment t’ end. Was… sublime, cher. Ain’t not’in like it…”

The water turned off. Their fifteen minutes were up. The pair reached for the towels, and Remy leaned over and kissed Spencer’s cheek. “When we get home… de Wolverine will need to welcome us… oui?” And he winked. “Don’t t’ink Logan’ll have a choice dis time. Den you’ll see…”

Spencer gave him a little smile in return. “I hope so.”

“You will, cher.” Remy assured him, and the door opened. They were placed before a sink and given supplies to brush their teeth and comb their hair, and then were returned to their cell. The pair made their way over to the far corner and sat against the wall, huddled up against one another under their meager blankets.

“How long before we leave, do you think?” Spencer asked.

“Je ne sais….” Remy sighed. “But… dat be our best bet t’ get de hell outta here.”

“And what? Run naked?”

“Bette’ dan gettin’ shipped off to fuckin’ Hong Kong.” Remy spat. “Rather run naked here, dan dere.”

“Point taken…” Spencer grumbled, and the pair snuggled in and settled down for the agonizing wait.

It didn’t last long… Both jerked upright when alarms suddenly started to blare, and lights were flashing.

“What de hell?” Remy murmured, frowning and moving to the front of their cell, peering up and down the hall. Several other mutants were doing the same in their own cells.

“Anything?” Spencer asked.

“Non… but somet’in’s goin’ on… Looks like it’s de fire alarm!”

“That could be useful.” Spencer said. “In the chaos of an evacuation, escape would be easier.”

“Oui… Be ready, mon amour. We take whatever chance we get…”

But only moments later and the door to their cell burst open and Anthony was there, a file folder in his hands and with a large goon squad at his back.

“Get them packed up.” He snapped. “We’re getting them on their way. I am NOT losing this deal!” And several of the men raised tranquilizer guns. 

Spencer gasped and scrambled back, but Remy let out a roar of challenge and charged at them. Several of the men stumbled back, alarmed at the sight of the naked mutant with blazing black and red eyes moving in like the devil himself.

“REMY!” Spencer cried, as they began to fire, and Remy gracefully spun and dodged each dart, finally reaching them and bringing his fist across the first man’s jaw, even as he disarmed him, spinning and bringing the butt of the gun across the face of another man.

“Remy!” Spencer cried again, scrambling to his feet as several men moved to corner him. After a moment, he groaned and lunged at them, trying to remember all his lessons in hand to hand with the X-Men, the Bureau… Derek Morgan, when he was feeling like picking on the genius…

Sadly, Spencer Reid failed to do his instructors proud that day. Had they been watching, there would have been a mass face-palm performed. His small, slender frame was outmatched by the sheer mass of the man he had gone to tackle, and instead of Spencer tackling the man, the man simply caught Spencer with a chuckle, and held him tight. Spencer thrashed, then yelped at the sting of a needle in the back of his shoulder, and then the world was spinning.

“Non!” He heard Remy shout. “Spencer?!” Then he was on the floor and his vision blurred as he watched Remy trying to get to him, only to be tackle to the floor and stabbed in the back with a tranquilizer. Spencer’s eyes fell closed and he listened to Remy screaming and cursing for a few more seconds before he fell silent. Then Spencer felt the collar around his neck being removed. For a moment, he desperately reached out with his powers, and touched Remy’s mind… But they only had a moment, a brief nuzzle between their psyches, before another collar replaced the first, this one heavier. And then there was pinch on his neck and everything fell away and he floated in darkness, Anthony’s final words ringing in his ears.

“Crate them up and get them out. Before that monster brings this place down…”

Monster…

… Logan?


	5. Chapter 5

The relief in the air was palpable when Charles Xavier suddenly smiled, and said “Logan’s back.”

It had been a week… a week since that horrible delivery had sent Logan spiraling into his feral self… since they had locked him in a Danger Room simulation for everyone’s safety. Now, Scott was finally able to end the simulation; the the vast forest in the Canadian Rockies faded away, and the Danger Room was back. Inside Jean was on her knees, her arms around the dirty naked man who was sobbing into her chest. Then the doors opened and Hank McCoy made his way in, a woolen blanket in his arms as he slowly approached Jean Grey and the distraught mutant in her arms.

When he reached them, Jean nodded and moved back. Logan choked and brought himself to silence when the blanket was wrapped around him. When Hank moved to unwrap the bloody scarves from Logan’s biceps, however, Logan pushed him away. He slowly got his feet, pulling the blanket around himself and staggering towards the door. Silently, he allowed Hank to lead him to the MedLab and give him a check up and then send him to bathe, but Logan took the scarves with him.

It was two hours later that the X-Men silently observed Logan walking into the War Room in jeans and a tank top. His eyes were downcast, his posture slumped, his manner subdued. The scarves were still in his hands, and he was slowly tangling and untangling them around his hands and each other. The others remained respectfully silent as he sunk into his chair and slumped back, chin dropping to rest on his chest as he closed his eyes. 

He was a broken man.

For a long time, no one said a word. But finally Jubilee got to her feet, ran around the table and plopped herself down into Logan’s lap, throwing her arms around his neck as she squeezed her eyes shut against her own tears. Slowly, Logan turned and buried his face into her shoulder, bringing his arms up to hold her, leaving the scarves in his lap.

“Logan…” Xavier sighed, his voice heavy with regret.

“… Where’re their… bodies?” Logan whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Silence.

“Where?” Logan demanded, finally raising his eyes and looking at Xavier. Scott cleared his throat.

“We were unable to locate them.” He said, softly. Not once did he look at Logan. His gaze remained focused on his own hands, clasped on the table. Logan observed how tight Scott’s face was… how the muscle in his jaw twitched. The man was clenching his teeth, and the knuckles of his clasped hands were white. “We haven’t found ANYTHING. We don’t even know who…” He trailed off.

“Logan… we were hoping you could tell us who… committed this crime.” Xavier said, slowly.

Logan just winced and looked away. “I dunno… Didn’t recognize the voice on the…” He couldn’t say more.

“It’s someone you… rejected.” Xavier prompted.

“And the music.” Hank pointed out.

“What?” Logan asked.

“There was a piano piece playing…”

“I don’t remember…” Logan admitted.

“Beethoven.” Hank supplied. “Fur Elise.”

Jubilee gasped when Logan tensed, his fingers digging into her.

“Ouch!” She cried, wiggling a bit. But the look on Logan’s face made her forget the bruising grip on her. “Wolvie? Does that mean something?”

“… Elise.” Logan growled, baring his teeth and his claws slid out, making Jubilee squirm nervously. Gently, he plucked her from his lap and set her aside, standing. A gold ring had formed around his blue eyes. Immediately, Betsy, Jean, Emma and Xavier tried to soothe him and hold The Wolverine at bay.

“Who is Elise?” Storm asked, trying to distract Logan.

“A female feral…” Logan growled, his eyes murderous. “Met her not long after Weapon X. She was interested, made advances, told ‘er I wasn’t interested an’ left town. Then, a coupla years ago, ran inta her in New York. At one of the FoH rallies. Told her I wasn’t interested again. That I didn’t plan on takin’ a mate. Ever.”

“But then you took Remy and Spencer…” Hank breathed, eyes widening. 

Scott stood then. “As a feral, she would have wanted to take out the competition.”

“The message said it was payback for the rejections and lies.” Kitty pointed out. “He rejected her, told her he wasn’t going to take a mate, and then took two.”

“In othuh words…” Rogue snorted, also standing. “This bitch is just a sore loosuh…” She was gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. 

“She’s gonna pay…” Logan growled.

“Yuh damn well bettuh believe it, sugah…” Rogue announced, rage in her tone.

“The Cajun ain’t yers ta avenge, girly.”

“Ah’ll always love Remy.” Rogue debated. “He’s mah best friend. I ain’t contestin’ your claim, Logan, but don’t you dare leave me outta the hunt.”

“Enough.” Scott called. “We’re X-Men. Not executioners. We’ll find her. And then we’ll hand over all our evidence to law enforcement.”

“First things first…” Emma announced, “we have to find her.”

“First things first… bodies or not… we have friends to be… remembered.” Jean said, and the room went quiet. “To be mourned. Let us all take a day or two. The students are upset. Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll… have a memorial service for them. Just a day to remember, reflect… grieve. And once we have had our chance to say goodbye, we will decide on a course of action.”

“I believe that would be best, Jean.” Xavier said.

“WHAT?!” Logan roared, but Xavier lifted a hand to silence him.

“You have spent the last week in the Danger Room out of control. I insist you take at least thirty six hours to… come to terms. The day after tomorrow, I will use Cerebro to try and find this Elise. But please, my friend. For your own sake…”

Logan glared at the man, but then bowed his head. He said not a word. He simply turned and left the room, a dark cloud of pain hanging over him…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A large, dark hulk sat perched in the crotch of a tree, animalistic yellow eyes glaring down at the facility. He was there to do a job, but he intended to have fun doing it. People in that building would die by his hand tonight. Die on his claws… 

Victor Creed shook out his disheveled mane of long tangled hair that would be on its way to forming messy dreadlocks if it didn’t see a comb or a shampooing sometime soon… Recognizing this, Creed growled in annoyance and swiped his claws through it a few times. He didn’t really give a damn overall, but there were occasions where he needed to at least pass as somewhat human.

Known as Sabretooth, he was more animal than man sometimes… most times... The mutant dropped out of the tree and prowled the perimeter of the facility, checking all security measures. The electric fence and barbed wire… the armed guards patrolling the perimeter and flanking each door… the cameras… every door had a keypad for entry. At the moment the garage was open, but a small army guarded it. Creed had to at least be a bit stealthy while he located what Sinister had sent him to find… Sinister had even told him to please exercise some restraint until he had what he had come for, but then he had permission to go hog wild if he wanted. 

The facility was a basically one of several warehouses where the “merchandise” was stored, for a Black Market focused on mutants. It went from the extreme of trafficking live mutants, to the mundane of gathering little souvenirs to sell to mutant groupies; piece of metal that had been twisted, torn and warped by Magneto… One of Rogue’s gloves… a broken visor belonging to Cyclops that had been found after a battle with the Brotherhood… A cinderblock that Wolverine had left claw marks in… And then there were weapons against mutants… inhibitors and power dampeners… And probably the most macabre, occasionally mutant remains passed through… A hand… a heart… a head. 

And that was what Creed was there for. Apparently, they had a finger that belonged to a mutant that Sinister had been interested in, who had been killed before he had been able to get his hands on her. Creed had been tasked with bringing back her genetic material, no matter what the cost. And this time, Creed aimed to do this job perfectly… anything to get his employer to lighten up. The news had reached Sinister a few days ago that one of his favorite mutants, that little Cajun whore, Gambit, had been killed. Put on his knees and shot in the back of the head, executed… all because he was mated to the Wolverine…

Sinister had been beyond furious. He had flow into a rage so fierce, that even Sabrtetooth had kept his distance and had been tiptoeing around the geneticist ever since. He had gone with the Marauders to comb New York City for a few days, to try and at least recover the body, but there was no luck… That put Sinister into an even more foul mood. 

Of course, Sabretooth himself was enraged… the idea that someone had the gall to go after Logan, his brother, by murdering his mates…? If Creed ever got his hands on those responsible, there wouldn’t be enough left of them to bury…

Finally, he found his opening. He climbed a tree, crept out onto the limb and then leapt. He sailed over the electric fence, grinning when he heard the branch crack and fall behind him. Then he darted forward and hid in the shadows of a utility shed, watching as one of the armed guards came running over, staring at the branch that had come down on the fence. The man pulled out his radio to call in the damage. He never had a chance. He gasped as he was shoved from behind, and landed on the downed fence. 

Creed smirked as he watched the body perform a macabre dance as it was electrocuted, and then he turned and headed back into the shadows to watch. The guards at the nearest door were leaving their posts, having been contacted about a surge in the fence somewhere in their area. They passed by the inky shadows and Creed slipped past them, heading to the door. One swipe of his claws and the security panel was destroyed. A second, and the door latch had been ripped off, and Creed was stepping inside, closing the door behind him, almost politely. Then he strolled down the corridor, as if his presence there was the most natural thing in the world. In fact, only minutes later, he walked around the corner and came face to face with two guards. He merely nodded pleasantly, and continued. The guards, stunned, took a moment before they whirled and raised their guns.

“H-Hey! HEY!” One of them shouted. “STOP!” 

Creed obeyed. If the men had seen the pleased grin that overtook his face in that moment, they would have shit themselves and run, though maybe not in that order. As it was, they had a chance to do neither. Sabretooth whirled with a roar, his ferocious visage the last thing they ever saw before their vision was taken over by their own arterial spray decorating the walls and ceiling…

Feeling better already, Creed continued on his way, delicately licking the blood from his claws, and nibbling away the flesh that had caught on them. Vaguely, he wondered to himself if that was why his little brother didn’t enjoy the kill as he did… those claws that Logan had were impressive, yes, but it just didn’t seem that they would be as personal as Victor’s. Logan could kill without getting blood on his hands every time… for Victor, it was a given. Perhaps Logan’s kills just didn’t have the intimacy that Victor’s did…

“Hm…” Victor hummed as he considered this idea, momentarily ignoring a little shrimp of a man pressed against the wall in fear as he passed by. He looked like he was maybe some kind of janitor. Creed paused, turning and looked back at the man, who was staring in horror at the blood on his claws. And then, to Creed’s disgust, a wet spot appeared on at the front of his pants and the acrid stench of urine filled the air.

“… Nice.” Creed drawled. “Tell ya what… Ya tell me where I can find what I’m here for, and you’ll live ta piss again.”

The young man nodded in silent terror.

“Where would I find the uh… bits and pieces of mutants around here? Dead bodies?” And then, he put on a sadistic grin. “I’m hungry…” The man before him looked like he was going to pass out. But he squeaked “second left. Down one flight. Turn right. Uh… third, fourth door on the left?”

Victor blinked and cocked his head. “… second left, down one flight, turn right, third or fourth door on the left?” The man nodded. “Ya can’t tell me WHICH door?”

“… B-B-Both… Bodies in one. Parts in the other!”

Victor stared a moment longer, and then turned and walked away. He chuckled when he heard the man slump to the floor and sob in relief as he disappeared around the corner. He was halfway down the stairs when the alarms started to sound… They were loud and shrill, and he bared his teeth in aggravation at the speakers on the wall as he passed them. He arrived at the first door and pushed it open, looking around. It was built like a morgue. He snorted and moved to the next room, and growled in satisfaction when he stepped inside. He walked over to the ‘B’ section, looking for ‘Bradford, Molly’. 

“Here ya are…” He grumbled, spotting the name. It gave the gender, age, and a description of her mutant power on the card under the little jar where a single finger was floating. Creed grabbed the jar and removed his satchel, setting it on the counter and opening it. Inside was a carefully constructed case to transport the finger, lined with dry ice. Creed opened the jar and poured it, and the finger, into the container, sealed it and then closed it up again, slinging the satchel over his shoulder once more. 

He left the room then, amused that no one was coming down there to attempt to apprehend him yet. He began to explore then, wondering if he would like to take any souvenirs for himself. He encountered two parties of guards, and had slaughtered them, when he found the main office. He was pleased… might help to bring back a little bonus to butter up Sinister… he ripped the harddrive from the computer, and a couple of three ring binders with labels like ‘INVENTORY’ and ‘TRANSACTIONS’.

Then he made his way out. A few doors down, he found what appeared to be brain of the facility… a massive control room that handled the security system, the electricity, the water and gas... everything. He killed the men inside, and then began to destroy… More alarms were shrieking now, and he heard a distant explosion. Delighted, he continued to wreak havoc, watching the security cameras as the facility started to fall apart. And then he destroyed all the control consoles so that no one could stop it. And now, with the destruction of the place guaranteed, he went on his way, pausing for a moment at the cameras that showed a corridor of caged mutants. And he saw in one of them, men rushing to roll a crate down a hall, a man egging them on urgently. 

Curious, Creed decided to investigate.

He found the hallway with no problem, and simply walked down it’s length, ripping the doors off of hinges as he went. The few occupants of the cells came running out, staring at him in shock. Some of them spoke to him, but he ignored them, and their pleas for him to help them get the others out. Eventually, he heard them organize together and go running off, determined not to leave any mutant behind. Good on them, he didn’t care… he had given them their chance to get out, it was their choice if they didn’t take it and died trying to save the others… 

Then he was out of the cell blocks and heading down what appeared to be one of the building’s main corridors. Creed strode down the hall, a smirk on his face as he reveled in the chaos around him. Even though the flashing lights and screaming alarms grated on his senses, he focused on the sights, sounds and smells of the panic, taking satisfaction in the fact that these people deserved it.

But he had what he had come for, and so it was time to head back. He made his way to the garages, thinking that maybe there would be a vehicle that would be fun to take on a joy ride as he made his escape. When he entered, shouts went up and guns were raised. Grinning, he leapt into action. And soon, his claws were dripping with blood and scraps of flesh once more.

But suddenly, over the smell of the carnage, he caught a scent. Sabretooth froze, nostrils quivering. And then he turned, his eyes sweeping over the garage. People were still running around, loading things into cars to get them out of the facility before it burned to the ground. Victor moved through the garage, following the scent that was teasing his brain. He stepped around a large semi, and stopped. Several men were lifting a large metal crate into the back of a van. And that was when Victor spotted the guy in charge. He was anxiously telling them to hurry. The crate had holes in it… whatever was in there was live cargo. It was the crate he had seen them rushing to get moved on the security cameras. He had wondered what was in it, but now he couldn’t leave until he found out. Not with that scent that was coming from it…

Immediately Creed was moving towards them, viciously gutting the few men who tried to stop him. All the people around the van were watching him come now, fear in their eyes. And then Creed was looming over them. He looked at the guy in charge, and then glanced at the crate.

“Ya seem pretty keen ta get that outta here… must be somethin’ real nice in there…”

“… J-Just some cargo that needs to be delivered to a buyer overseas.” Anthony gasped, trying not to show fear. He was failing. Badly. Victor smirked.

“Really?” He asked, cocking his head and turning to the crate, which had a shipping label to Hong Kong. Large hands reached out and easily broke the padlock, then lifted the latch and slid the deadbolt back. Then, with soft squeak from the hinges, he pulled open the door and looked inside. While on the outside he maintained an appearance of indifference, inside, the rage consumed him.

He moved into a crouch and crawled into the crate, eyes inspecting the two bodies curled up within it, heavy inhibitor collars around their necks. There was no mistaking it… despite the news that had reached his ears that he was dead (once again, he thought about that incredible fit that Essex thrown), one of the two figures was that damned Cajun, Gambit. And contrary to the information that had gotten around… he was alive. Victor could see his chest rising and falling ever so slightly, and he could even hear the soft thrumming of his heart. 

Creed leaned down, frowning and sniffing him over, and then his lips curled in a snarl. He knew that smell. Even though the Cajun had obviously been bathed, it still clung to him. It was the musk of sex with a sour undertone. Nonconsensual sex. He would know that scent anywhere… he had been the reason for Cajun to reek of it for the first time. And while he looked back on that memory with a sadistic fondness, he was furious that someone else had the gall to lay their hands on what he had already claimed… and on what now belonged to his brother. NO ONE took his brother’s mates… no one but HIM…

Turning, Victor inspected the other figure. He had never met the boy, never seen him or scented him, but he knew that his brother had a second mate. And this had to be him. He was mildly amused; apparently, his brother had a thing for tall, slender young men. And word ‘round the campfire was that the boy was a Fed. A mutant Fed… Victor eyed him up and down… the kid looked pathetically scrawny and weak… but a mutant Fed? The kid had to have some major balls… God knows what the Feds would do if they ever found him out…

He moved in close and scented the boy. He hadn’t been violated. But there was fear, anger, sadness and guilt in his scent, though it was fading now. Victor could put two and two together. LeBeau had been raped, and the younger man had watched it happen.

Now the pair lay curled up around one another. Literally. They were lying on their sides facing one another; LeBeau’s arms were wrapped around the boy’s shoulders… the boy, as Victor was calling him for now, had his head pillowed on LeBeau’s arm and his head tucked under his chin. His arms were wrapped around LeBeau’s waist, and their legs were entwined. They clung to one another for comfort and protection. Victor could see that LeBeau’s intent was indeed to protect… and the boy’s was to comfort. 

Interesting…

Victor inspected their injuries, now. They were relatively minor. Some bruises and abrasions… ligature marks around their wrists and ankles. Then there were the bandages that each had wrapped around a bicep… Other than that, the boy seemed relatively unscathed… LeBeau had mottled bruising on his backside and inner thighs, and what had to be finger prints on his arms and hips. Bruising on his face was familiar enough for Victor to recognize it as LeBeau having been backhanded several times, probably during the rape. The boy had some slight coloring on his cheek. He, too, had been backhanded, but only once or twice, and not nearly as hard as LeBeau had been.

Growling now, Victor backed out of the crate and closed it up again, his mind made up. He turned and looked at the men who had been watching him.

“Ya know,” he began, his tone casual, but there was something about it that made the skin crawl on the men around him. “News travels in the mutant community. And the word out there is that the Wolverine’s mates were abducted, and executed.” He raised a hand and tapped the back of his skull with his fingers. “Bullet ta the back of the head.” He dropped his hand and regarded the men before him for a moment before saying, “care ta explain why they’re alive and uh, mostly well?”

Some of the men began to inch away.

“Don’t bother. Ya won’t get far…” Creed growled, now narrowing his eyes and baring his teeth. “Let’s make one thing perfectly clear… going after the mate of a feral mutant is just damn stupid. But going after what belongs ta the Wolverine? Well… that’s just suicidal.” And then he grinned. “No one touches my brother’s property… but me.” And then he roared and lunged.

It was over in seconds. Guns were fired, men screamed, and then it was just Sabretooth standing there, licking the blood from his claws as he regarded the man that was now pinned to the wall and staring up at him in terror. “Keys?” Victor asked.

“In the… in the van. In the ignition.” Anthony gasped.

“Good.”

“P-Please… I just… I was hired to… to…”

“Hope ya were able ta enjoy yer pay.” Creed sighed, rolling his eyes. And then he raised his hand. The man let out a scream, but it was cut off as Victor plunged his claws into the man’s chest, and he choked on his own blood. Victor sighed and gripped the man’s ribs, and with a loud, wet crack and a final scream, he had broken the rib cage wide open, reached in and grasped the quivering heart. Then he stepped back, allowing the man to slide off of his claws and down to the floor. 

He inspected the glistening heart in his hands, then walked over to a stack of Styrofoam containers. He lifted the lid on one and peered inside. There was some kind of canister on ice. He tossed the canister aside and settled then heart into its place before replacing the lid. Then, not even blinking, he made his way over to the door on the wall that was labeled as a bathroom and stepped in. He washed the blood from his hands, used the john and then headed back out and over to the van, closing the back doors, placing the cooler containing the heart onto the passenger seat on top of a file folder that he paid no attention to. Then, sliding into the driver’s seat, he adjusted it to fit his massive frame as best he could, and turned the key.

Cringing at the obnoxious pop music that the radio started blaring, he turned down the volume and started to fiddle with the knob as he pulled out of the garage. This drive would put him at least a day behind, but oh well. Essex would forgive him. After all, he would be returning with good news; Sinister’s favorite little guinea pig still lived.

“What I do fer family…” Creed chuckled to himself, glancing back at the crate in the rear view mirror. Then he rolled down the window, propped his elbow out and drove off into the night, Johnny Cash playing on the radio…


	6. Chapter 6

A few hours out, as the sun rose, Victor decided that he was far enough away from the place to stop. He pulled over onto a dirt road and drove in just far enough that the van wouldn’t be seen from the interstate. Then he got out and went to the back of the van, opening it and climbing in. He opened the crate once more and then squatted down, cocking his head and sniffing the air, eyes inspecting the two bodies before him. After a few minutes, he crawled into the crate and reached out, gripping each young man by the shoulder and pulling them apart, letting them roll onto their backs. Then he knelt there between them, and looked them over.

There didn’t seem to be any other injuries other than what he has already seen, and the pair were obviously sleeping the sleep of the heavily drugged. Creed reached out and peeled up their eyelids. Sure enough, their eyes were heavily dilated and rolled back into their heads. Creed leaned in close to LeBeau and sniffed over his face, and then his neck… the inhibitor collar had an odd chemical odor to it… Creed was willing to bet that there was a mechanism in the collar that administered the sedative at intervals, to ensure that the pair would remain unconscious for their trip overseas…

He gripped LeBeau’s chin and turned the slack face towards him, and as he studied it he said, “once again… yer luck impresses me, Swamp Rat…” He snorted, then moved to sniff down his chest and belly, and then he was snuffling over his groin and inner thighs, taking in the familiar scent of the Cajun. He scented him all the way down to his toes before sitting back and huffing slightly, satisfied with his inspection. There were no other injuries.

Then he turned his attention to the boy. He started at his toes, as long as he was down there, and sniffed up his long, coltish legs that had virtually none of the supple muscles that LeBeau had. He moved up further, over the thighs and then reaching the crux. He didn’t hesitate to do as he had done on LeBeau, burying his face into the light feathering of pubic hair as he took in the boy’s scent where it was the most potent… the most pure. He found it quite pleasant. He could tell that the boy liked coffee… perhaps even more than LeBeau. He didn’t drink as much, and he didn’t smoke. He nudged at the limp organ and nosed at what hung beneath. He wasn’t sure what the boy’s powers were, but he could smell something that just HAD to be linked to them… the scent made him think of standing outside, feeling the clean summer breeze and gazing at the sun.

He stilled for a moment, committing the boy’s pleasant scent to memory, and then he let out a soft whuff before he moved up his belly and chest. He nibbled slightly at the tips of long fingers and paused at the inside of his left elbow, snuffling over the faded track marks and scars, and even scraping his tongue over the skin. Whatever the boy had done, he was clean, and had been for a long time. Creed hadn’t detected any trace of drug use in the boy’s scent. Then he sniffed at the armpits for quite a while before he moved up the neck and over the face, before turning the head to the side and burying his face into the boy’s tousled chestnut curls, snuffling around behind his ear. Then he stared down at the face for a while, reaching out and gently tracing the contours with a claw. 

His hand dropped and he crouched there, head cocked as he stared for a long time, and then he slowly shuffled back. Now he was at the front of the crate, gazing in at the two bodies before him. Naked… vulnerable… legs spread… Victor’s eyes darkened and a growl vibrated through his chest even as heat trickled down and warmed his inner thighs and made him tingle with desire.

But then he snorted loudly and turned away. He would delight in stealing away his brother’s mates… take them by force, taint them… hearing LeBeau furiously shout and curse, then cry in pain and beg for him to stop the brutal assault… A flash of that very memory passed through his mind, making him grin. The boy, he looked like he would cry and squeal, but submit and give up rather quickly… Victor would be gentle with the boy, though… not so with LeBeau, but the boy would require a more… delicate handling.

Oh yes… he would love to indulge in their bodies, to relish the fight, only to see it drain out of them to be replaced with agonized acceptance... But only AFTER the Wolverine had reclaimed them properly. As they were now? There wasn’t nearly as much appeal. He could wait…

He turned back and crawled into the crate once more, reaching out to the two young men. Then, with careful hands, Victor rolled them back over onto their side and situated them as they had been; legs entwined, the boy’s arms around LeBeau’s waist and LeBeau’s arms around the boy’s shoulders. The boy with his head tucked under LeBeau’s chin, and LeBeau with his face hidden in the boy’s hair. And then, once they were as they had been, he closed the crate, shut the back doors of the van and returned to the driver’s seat, getting back onto the road once more.

The drive took fourteen hours. Every time he stopped for gas, he would check on his live cargo. Not once did they stir, or show signs of waking. He was grateful for the ingenious collars that kept them sedated, as he really didn’t feel like dealing with LeBeau. He would check them, just to make sure that they really were just unconscious… make sure they were still breathing and all…

It was nearly two am when he finally arrived at the Xavier School. He sat there at the gates and pondered… he could always ring the bell.

“Heh.” He laughed to himself, grinning and gripping the wheel with both hands. There were much more entertaining ways to get the attention of the residents. He slammed his foot down on the gas and van rocketed forwards with a roar, and crashed through the front gates. Immediately, alarms were going off.

Creed pulled to a stop in the front drive before the house and got out of the van, moving around to the passenger side and leaning back against the side of the van to face the front doors. Only seconds later, the front doors burst open. Scott, Jean, Hank, Kurt and Ororo were there. They were all in their pajamas, but they were all looking awake, alert and ready. The looks on their faces when they spotted Creed, just casually standing there, was amusing to say the least.

“Any of you losers actually sleep in the buff?” He asked in a tone of disappointed boredom, picking at his nailbeds. 

“… What are you doing here?!” Scott demanded, and Victor sighed.

“My brother around?”

No one answered. 

“Or did he take off?”

“What do you want with Logan?” Ororo demanded to know.

“That’s between me an’ him, darlin’.” Creed responded, raising his eyes to look at them as he folded his arms over chest. “… Family business. Is he here or not.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Was the response. 

Everyone turned and watched as Logan emerged from the house in his flannel pants. He was glaring at Creed, and already had his claws out. Creed straightened and a satisfied smirk crossed his face, though after he eyed Logan up and down, he said “… ya look like shit.”

“Whad’ya want, Victor?” Logan growled, as some of the others appeared in the doorway of the house, including Xavier.

“Fer once, I ain’t here for trouble, Jimmy.” The larger feral declared, putting up his hands.

“Like hell.” Logan snapped. Victor chuckled and shrugged, moving around towards the back of the van. 

“Brought ya a present!” He called as Logan moved to follow him, though he kept a good distance between them.

“Why the hell would I want anything from you?” Logan growled.

Victor ignored the question and turned to face Logan. “There’s two things ya need ta know, Jimmy…”

“How ta kill ya and what ta do with yer corpse?” Logan spat, and Victor again ignored him.

“First,” Creed snorted, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at Logan, “there are some lows that people sink to that even I won’t put up with.”

“Feh.” Logan snorted, turning his head and spitting on the ground. 

Creed just smirked, though there was no humor in it at all. His voice was stone cold when he said, “Goin’ after my brother through his mates, is one of ‘em.”

He watched Logan’s eyes blaze. Creed could see, feel, and smell the rage and pain that filled the Wolverine at those words. He could see the glimmer in his eyes as he fought back the tears that gathered, and Creed cleared his throat at the hot anger he felt boiling in his gut at that, though he refused to admit that it could possibly be the brotherly love and protectiveness he still harbored deep down for the smaller feral, no matter how much he denied that it was there.

“Only I’m allowed ta do that.” He snarled, and Logan just stared into his eyes. Creed sighed then, holding up a hand and showing two clawed fingers. “Second… don’t say I never did anything fer ya, Jimmy.” And then he reached out and sunk his claws into the back door of the van, digging them into the metal and then ripping the door off completely. He let it drop to the ground, and then he turned and walked away, down the drive and out the front gate, disappearing into the darkness.

Once he was gone, everyone turned to the van. Logan approached cautiously, moving around to look inside. He saw a large, metal box. A crate. There were round holes the size of a silver dollar drilled into it at each top corner of each panel… twelve in each set… Three down, four across. Then, the night breeze whispered over the grounds. It blew in the front window of the van and into the cargo area, and through the holes in the crate. And then it washed over the Wolverine.

He froze. His eyes flashed and widened, and his nostrils flared. And then he went pale as his mouth went slack, falling open slightly. At that time he let out a cry, and bolted from where he stood. It was a noise that none had ever heard from him before. It was too animal to be human, but too human to be animal. It was an instinctual, primal sound, and yet it carried immense amounts of emotion. 

Then he was leaping into the back of the van, bearing his claws and swiping them down, slicing through the deadbolts on one side, and the hinges of the other. The others were moving around to peer into the van when the door of the crate came crashing out, sending Scott and Hank leaping back to avoid being hit. And then came another noise. A low groan.

Logan crouched there in the back of the van, staring into the crate. It was filled with a nest of shredded paper that covered the floor nearly a foot and a half deep. An attempt to keep the cargo warm and comfortable. And curled up in the middle of the nest of shredded paper were the bodies of the two young men that they had been made to believe were dead.

Spencer and Remy were curled up around one another in a ball of long limbs in the back corner of the crate, their eyes closed and their bodies lax. Another cry escaped Logan and he was leaping into the crate, shuffling through the paper to hang over the pair of them, as if afraid that what he was seeing wasn’t real. Making plaintive noises the entire time, he scuttled around them, snuffling over them from every angle, inspecting every inch of them that he could without actually moving them.

When Scott and Hank moved to climb into the van, the Wolverine whirled and moved to straddle the pair, crouching over them and baring teeth and claws, warning the two off with a loud growl.

“Logan…” Hank said, putting his hands up. “Please… They aren’t responsive, I need to look at them to see what’s wrong.”

But the moment he made a move to come closer, the Wolverine roared and his blue eyes flashed into gold.

“… Shit.” Scott breathed. “Hank… back away. Slowly.” 

Hank did as Scott told him, though he didn’t need to be told. He knew the feral Wolverine quite well… All the X-Men were backing away now, watching as The Wolverine moved on all fours, pacing back and forth at the opening of the crate, growling as he watched them, but frequently turning to sniff and nuzzle the two young men he was protecting.

“… Can we get them into Logan’s room?” Ororo asked, suddenly. The others looked at her. 

“How?!” Alex asked, rubbing the crusties from his eyes.

“… I can move the whole crate.” Lorna announced. “It’s metal.” She glanced up. “If someone can open the windows to his room…”

“Got it.” Jean said with a smile and a nod, and she rose off of the ground. With a little smile, Lorna turned and reached out with her power. The door of the crate rose off of the ground, and the Wolverine snarled as it settled back into place on the crate, keeping him contained inside. The group heard his snarl grow louder when the crate slit out of the back of the van and began to levitate up into the air, Lorna rising off of the ground and following it, smiling as she heard the agitated shuffling of the Wolverine inside. 

She met Jean at the windows, which were already open.

“I’ve closed and locked his bedroom door.” Jean told her. “Hopefully, he’ll feel secure enough in there…”

“As opposed to what?” Lorna snorted. “Carrying their dead weight out of the third floor window and dragging them off to his filthy den?” She asked, referring to the little cave a couple of miles from the house that the Wolverine would sometimes hole up in when he went feral and ran off.

“I doubt it.” Jean laughed. “He could only move one at a time. I don’t think he would leave one of them behind for the time it would take to move the other.”

Grinning, Lorna guided the crate in. “It’s too wide…”

“Can you… crush it a bit?” Jean asked.

“Logan may not like that. I can hold his adamantium still if I have to.” Lorna frowned. “But I may need help to steady the crate.”

Rogue was there then, positioning herself under it and placing her palms on it, saying “You’ve got it. Ah’m ready.” Jean nodded, and focused as well, keeping it steady while Rogue took its weight. 

Slowly, the metal groaned and then buckled, like a beer can being crushed in slow motion. And sure enough, the Wolverine bellowed in alarm. But Lorna sensed the metal in him and held him, and together, she, Rogue and Jean got the crate into the bedroom. Then, once Rogue was out, Lorna dropped the door off and tilted the crate, dumping the Wolverine out onto his bed, with Remy and Spencer sliding out on top of him. Immediately, the Wolverine was crouched over them and letting out a threatening roar at the floating crate. 

Lorna removed it from the room for Rogue to take back down to the ground, and Jean frowned and focused. “Lorna… the collars?”

“Right.” Lorna nodded. The Wolverine cocked his head and let out a yelp and a growl when the collars around his mates’ necks suddenly sparked and shorted out, then were removed from their necks and flew out the window into Jean’s hands. He sent one more roar after them, and then the windows swung closed and latched.

The Wolverine was quiet, and Jean and Lorna returned to the ground.

“Well done, ladies.” Scott nodded with a smile.

“Let’s just hope Logan snaps out of it soon…” Hank frowned, inspecting the collars that Jean had handed him. “I want to look over Spencer and Remy… make sure they’re okay…”

“But… why did Sabretooth,” Rogue interjected, crossing her arms, “bring them back…?”

No one offered an answer…

Upstairs, in the dark room, the Wolverine was stalking around the perimeter of his bed, grumbling and snuffling over his mates. He pushed and nudged them up to the middle of the head of the bed, into the most defendable position… though instinct was telling him to drag them into the back corner of the closet. He was able to dampen down THAT silly need, knowing that they would be more comfortable on his bed.

Now, he settled for spreading their bodies out and inspecting them with eyes and nose, from head to foot, just as Creed had done. He catalogued every injury, growling at the bandages they each had on one bicep… Had Remy been awake, he would have let out a howl and beaten the Wolverine around the head at the way he sniffed over his crotch, then growled and nearly buried his head UNDER Remy’s backside. But as it was, Remy’s body was just jostled, and the Wolverine re-emerged from between his legs with a furious roar. The feral actually flung himself off of the bed and rampaged around the room in a virtual tantrum, beating the floor, slashing at furniture and tearing at his own hair in his wrath as he came to grips with the fact that his mate had been violated. He was enraged, guilt-ridden, agonized over that. As he reached the bathroom door he paused for a moment, then turned and launched himself onto the bed once more, whimpering softly as he checked Spencer over.

His head dropped with almost a sob of relief; there was no indication that Spencer had been touched like that… but it didn’t change the fact that he had still failed him. Failed to protect him, to keep him safe. No living soul had ever witnessed the Wolverine as he was then… making those soft, pathetic noises as he nudged his mates’ bodies in close again, and then virtually rested upon them, covering them and protecting them with his body. And when the sun rose, that was where he remained. 

His eyes snapped to the door when he heard footsteps approach, and when he heard the lock turn, he lifted himself up and bared his claws. When the door opened, he let out a warning growl. But Jean poked her head in anyway, looking at him.

“Logan?” She called gently. He growled. “Remy? Spencer?” The Wolverine’s growl got louder, and Jean sighed, then reached in and sat a tray down on the dresser by the door. “Breakfast, Logan.” She said softly, and then retreated, locking the door behind her. The Wolverine sat growling for quite a while longer, but eventually settled again. He still watched the door for a long time, but eventually, he found himself sniffing the air. He could smell the food. His stomach growled. He growled back. To get to the food, he would have to leave his mates. His stomach gurgled, pointing out that if he DIDN’T go get the food, he would just get hungrier. He was NOT pleased with his traitorous stomach…

Of course, it was also that moment that his bladder decided to speak up and get his attention, too!

The Wolverine let out a frustrated groan of defeat, and made his way to the bathroom… he at least had the presence of mind to do THAT properly.

Neither of his mates had shown any signs of waking all night, so the Wolverine wasn’t there to see the slightly fluttering of eyelids, just before they cracked open. A sea of black was all that was seen at first, but after a moment, Remy managed to roll his eyes down, and dull red irises expanded as the pupil snapped down to a pinprick in the early morning sunlight that was streaming in. His eyes drifted open and closed a few times before he was finally able to look around. 

His gaze was drawn by a funny snuffling noise. He blinked a few times, and then focused. Logan was perched on top of his dresser in a crouch, hunched over a tray and eating messily. It took Remy’s drug addled brains a moment to process that, and then his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. Logan...? His eyes looked around. It was Logan’s room…

“Dieu… Wolvie?” He breathed, and the noisy eating stopped. He looked over at Logan, and saw that the man was now staring at him, half a pancake hanging out of his mouth. It fell to the floor when he let out a bark, flying across the room in two large bounds, and then he was on the bed. Remy blinked up at him as the man snuffled over him, and then let out a plaintive moan. Then he saw the golden eyes. 

“Oh… you be DAT Wolvie, eh?” He smiled slightly and his fingers twitched. The Wolverine looked down, then bowed his head and nuzzled Remy’s hand. Remy smiled slightly, opening his hand to cup the Wolverine’s cheek and gently scratch at his side burns. He could feel the relief coming from the feral mutant… and the love. Many thought the Wolverine was incapable of such things, but Remy knew better… the Wolverine could love just as much as Logan. And he did. He just didn’t often show it, because usually when he was loose, it was because the shit had hit the fan, and there was no time for such tenderness… But every now and then, only a small handful of times, Remy had found himself the focus of the beast’s affectionate nuzzles and, as Jubilee called the behavior in cats, “head boops”.

“… T’ought I’d neve’ see y‘gain, me…” Remy murmured, smiling and feeling tears welling up in his eyes as he gazed into the eyes of the love of his life. One of them, at least. He slowly turned his head and looked over at Spencer, lying beside him.

“Took care o’ him…” He rasped through his sore throat, feeling the Wolverine crawl over him and move to snuggle down between Spencer and himself. He raised a hand and let it fall to the Wolverine’s hair as he lowered his eyes to meet the feral’s gaze, and he smiled. “Ol’ Remy protected our Spencer…” He told him. “Wasn’t perfect, but… I…” He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. He felt the Wolverine shifting beside him, then his whiskers on his jaw as the feral nuzzled him with soft croons.

The Wolverine let out a sound of dismay when tears rolled down Remy’s cheeks, but it was the soft sob that came after that, that did the trick. Remy felt the difference immediately, and then he was being gathered into a pair of strong arms and held against a broad chest as Logan murmured, “I gotcha, darlin’… I gotcha.”

Logan could feel Remy’s arms twitch and shiver… he knew Remy wanted to wrap his arms around his neck, wanted to snuggle into his protective embrace, but the drugs were still in his system and he didn’t have that much control over his body yet. And so Logan just held him tight and close, turning his face and burying it into Remy’s russet hair even as he smoothed it down with a hand, gently stroking and soothing his lover, rocking him, even.

Remy finally grew quiet, and Logan gently lay him back on the bed, drinking in his sleeping face as he tucked him in and brushed away the drying tears with the pad of his thumb before he leaned down, and gently kissed the Cajun’s forehead. Then he turned and moved over to Spencer. He hoped that if Remy had woken, Spencer would wake soon. But of course, Remy did tend to burn through sedatives rather quickly, and Spencer processed them as a normal human would…

As soon as the inhibitor collars were off (he had a vague memory of the collars whizzing out the window) then Remy’s powers would have returned and kick-started his metabolism. And so Logan just settled down patiently.


	7. Chapter 7

At noon, there was a knock on the door. Logan was immediately up in a crouch, claws out and growling as Jean poked her head in.

“Logan?” She called, sensing that he was back, and the feral Wolverine had withdrawn. But Logan was still very much on edge, and the slightest push could bring the Wolverine roaring to the forefront again.

“I brought lunch for all three of you. I’ll leave it on the dresser.” And Logan watched as the tray floated in and came to rest on his dresser, and the half eaten breakfast tray (including the pancake on the floor) floated out. Then the door closed, and Jean locked it with her telekinesis once more.

Only minutes after that and Remy stirred again, turning his head to the side and sucking in a deep breath. And then his stomach gurgled. 

“Remy?” Logan called, softly.

“Logan?” Remy mumbled, and opened his eyes, blinking around. “… We’re home?” And he glanced over to make sure Spencer was there. “… T’ought ol’ Remy was dreamin’befo’…”

“No… yer home, darlin’…” Logan choked out, biting back the emotions that threatened to steal his voice. He watched Remy sniff the air and turn his head again, and another growl came from his stomach. 

“Ya wanna eat?”

“Oui…” Remy murmured, slowly moving to sit up. “Dey only fed us once a day…” And he looked down and reached out, running his fingers through the tousled chestnut strands. “Spencer? Wake up, mon soleil… s’il tu plait… need t’ see y’ eyes, cher…”

Reid twitched and moaned softly, and Logan moved to sit on Spencer’s other side, laying a large hand on the young man’s thin chest. Spencer’s eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open.

“Nnnh…” He moaned, almost in frustration. Remy smiled.

“Ah, cher… Y’ know dat place b’tween sleep an’ awake, dat place where y’ still remember dreamin’?” 

Spencer was still for a moment, and then his mouth opened slightly in a soft sigh, even as the corners of his lips twitched up. Logan smiled.

“That’s where I’ll always love ya, darlin’…”

Spencer turned his head slightly, and sighed “That’s where I’ll be waiting…”

“Remy t’ink dat be where y’ are right now, Nightlight.”

“T’ink Remy be right…” Spencer mumbled, and Logan chuckled as Remy wrinkled his nose in annoyance at Spencer’s horrific Cajun accent. Spencer now turned his head towards Remy.

“… We… We’re… home?”

“Oui, cher…” Remy grinned. “We be home. An’ Wolvie be right here wit’ us. Open y’ eyes now, mon amour.”

And slowly, Spencer did. He blinked slowly, struggling to focus, but finally he set his gaze upon the two men hovering over him. “… We’re home…” He gasped, looking amazed.

“Oui.” Remy nodded.

“But… how?” Spencer asked, struggling to sit up. “Last I remember, I was drugged and you were… fighting.” He looked at Remy.

“Stuck ol’ Gambit too…” Remy grumbled. “Remember dey switched out de collars an den… lights out.”

“Yeah.” Spencer nodded. “Logan… you found us?!” They both turned to look at the feral, who suddenly had an intense look of agonized self loathing as he shook his head.

“I… I thought you were… both…”

“You got the video.” Spencer breathed, eyes widening. Remy looked horrified and furious all at once.

“We were searchin’ the city fer… yer bodies.” Logan admitted, unable to make eye contact.

“Then… How did we get here?” Spencer asked. Slowly, Logan looked up at them.

“… Creed.”

“Quoi?!” Remy blurted, eyes widening in shock. “VICTOR Creed?! Sabretooth?!”

“Yeah.” Logan nodded. “Crashed through the front gates in a van and… left ya.”

“… Why?!” Remy cried.

“Well… he did say, no one gets ta mess with my mates… but him.” Logan admitted, frowning.

“He took it personally.” Reid announced, and the two looked at him, confused. “From what I’ve heard about him… do you remember what he said exactly?” 

“He was… leaning against the van when I came out.” Logan said, slowly. “Told me I looked like shit that that he wasn’t here fer trouble. That he’d brought me a present. Then he said there were two things I needed ta know… That some things even he won’t tolerate, and goin’ after me by… killing my mates was one of them. And then he said, ‘don’t say I never did anything for ya’… And he left.”

“He still feels territorial and protective urges towards you.” Spencer profiled, rubbing his eyes. “No one is allowed to mess with you but him. And given his feral nature, he found it enraging that someone went after you through Remy and me. He took it as a personal insult. Like someone encroaching on what he feels is his territory. You’re his, and by default, so are we. And as rivals, to take another’s mates is a way to… assert dominance. I would think that he would see someone taking us from you as a way to declare their dominance over you. And he feels that is his right alone.”

“So… he took what happened as a personal insult against him, his dominance and his imagined claim on me?” Logan asked, looking baffled.

“I assume.” Spencer shrugged. “I can only base this off of what little I know of him, and what I know of YOUR feral nature.”

“Pfft…” Remy snorted, then froze. “Wait… if takin’ another’s mates means takin’ dominance… why de hell did he return us? Why not keep us?!”

“You’d already been taken.” Logan snorted. “No honor in stealin’ ya from another thief.”

“Creed need ta take us from y’ directly?” Remy asked, cocking his head.

“… Once I’ve… reaffirmed my status as yer Alpha Mate.” Logan sighed, nodding.

“Oh. So once y’ sex us up, he comin’ back fo’ us?” Remy asked. “Dat’s a pleasant t’ought…” And he huffed, blowing some hair out of his face and pouting. Spencer’s eyes widened and Logan growled.

“He’d better not…”

Then, Spencer’s stomach growled, and Remy’s answered.

“… I heard, I heard.” Logan groaned when Remy opened his mouth, and heaved himself off of the bed, heading over to the tray Jean had left. He carefully brought it over to the bed and settled.

“Soup… Good.” Spencer sighed, accepting a bowl and spoon.

“Once ya eat, we should get the debriefing over with.” Logan grumbled. “Chuck ain’t gonna wait long.”

“Oui… surprised he ain’t demanded our presence yet…” Remy mumbled as he crumbled some crackers into his soup.

They ate in comfortable silence, Spencer’s telepathy and Remy’s empathy wrapping around them and re-establishing their bond as the drugs finally wore off. Then Logan herded them both into the shower, and they made him shower as well, and then all three dressed comfortably and made their way out. 

Logan was almost immediately tense. He was struggling against his urge to keep his mates securely locked up in his room where he could guard them properly. His boys, bless them, could feel his anxiety, and made every effort to calm him. They stuck close to each other, shoulders touching, arms linked, whatever, and kept themselves positioned between Logan, and the wall. The few students in the hallways kept their distance. The entire school had been told that morning of Spencer and Remy’s return, and that Logan would be on edge and be feeling particularly protective; all had been warned to keep their distance.

But of course, word spread quickly that they had emerged, and soon Rogue was running up the hallway towards them, tears in her eyes.

Remy smiled and stepped away from Spencer, and calmed Logan with a hand on his shoulder, before opening his arms and catching her as she flung herself on him, sobbing.

“Shhh…” Remy soothed. “S’arligh’, cher… Gon’ take mo’ dan dat t’ end dis stubborn Cajun…” He stroked her hair and sent wave after wave of calming reassurances. 

Finally, she got control of herself and stepped back. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, she gasped “God, Remy… You’re still mah best friend… When Ah saw you…” She trailed off for a moment, gave a shudder and then whispered, “die…” She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head, before sucking in a deep, settling breath. After a moment, she lifted her head and turned to look at Spencer. 

Rogue and Spencer had never really gotten along. After Remy and Rogue had broken up for the final time, Remy reconciled his feelings for Logan. And then somehow developed them for Spencer. And the three of them got together. Even though Remy had told Rogue time and again that he’d harbored feelings for Logan before Spencer ever came to the Xavier School, Rogue saw Spencer as the reason that she and Remy never got back together. The pair were cordial enough with one another, if only for Remy’s sake, but there were no fond feelings.

Spencer was surprised when the woman announced “Ah’m glad to see you’re alright, Spencer.”

Reid blinked a couple of times, and then nodded to her.

“Ya don’t even like ‘im.” Logan snorted, not one to pull punches.

“That don’t mean Ah want him dead.” Rogue replied, folding her arms across her chest. “The Professor sent me ta fetch y’all when he felt ya wakin’ up. We’re meetin’ in the War Room.”

The three men nodded and followed her, and they all let out a sigh when she announced “get ready tuh be buried, sugah… Lotta folks’re really happy y’all’re okay.”

And she wasn’t kidding. Spencer and Logan both hung back when they entered the War Room, expecting an attack. And it came rapidly. Remy yelped and stumbled back as he was tackled by Ororo, Kitty and Jubilee, who were all in tears, they were so relieved to see him alive and well. Spencer remained firmly hidden behind Logan, just watching over the man’s hair. 

While Remy was swamped, Scott, Jean and Hank converged on Spencer.

“It’s such a relief to see you…” Jean told him, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder very briefly. Scott just nodded, also smiling, though he withheld physical contact, knowing how it made Spencer nervous. Hank did so as well, though he was openly eyeing Reid up and down, looking for any sign of injury. Kurt seized Spencer’s hand and welcomed him back, and then Logan ushered Spencer further into the room and sat him down in a chair beside him as Remy let out a loud, strained groan as Piotr let out a booming laugh and gave the Cajun a massive hug that lifted him off of his feet and made his back pop as he cried “Mon Dieu!” 

Remy staggered as he was set back on his feet, and Emma steadied with him a hand on his shoulder. Betsy gave him a quick embrace and Warren gave him a little nod, and slowly, everyone went to find their seats, Remy pausing just long enough for a quick, one armed, hand-shake-man-hug with Alex Summers, and then Bobby Drake.

Finally, everyone was quietly settled in their seats, Logan looking antsy. He seemed frustrated with his inability to be in two places at once. He obviously wanted to sit Remy and Spencer right next to each other, and then place himself protectively on either side of them. Of course, as this was not physically possible, he opted to place himself between them instead, and tug their chairs as close to his own as he could. Seeing that the feral was still very much on edge, Ororo, who was next to Remy, and Hank, who was next to Spencer, both scooted further away from the Wolverine’s mates with looks of amused tolerance.

“Spencer. Remy.” Xavier said. “I cannot tell you how relieved we all are to have you back here.”

“As soon as this meeting is over, I will insist on giving you each a thorough exam.” Hank said.

“Non, dat ain’t necessary.” Remy interjected immediately. Everyone turned to stare at him. He was leaning back in his chair and had folded his arms over his chest. 

“Remy, I really must insist!”

“Non!” Remy snapped.

“Remy, please…” Spencer begged.

“Absolutely not, Nightlight!” Remy insisted.

“You were hurt!”

“Gambit be jus’ fine!” Remy argued.

“Remy, I’m insisting!” Spencer pushed.

“So am I.” Logan growled, frowning at how quickly Remy had gotten defensive.

“You can BOT’ kiss Remy’s ass! Y’all can!”

“Remy.” Xavier said in a quiet, but firm tone. “You many not go back on active duty until Hank clears you.”

Everyone was silent as Remy just gaped. “Quoi?! Excuse moi?!” He finally blurted, slamming his hands down on the table and leaping to his feet, eyes blazing.

“Rem… watch yerself…” Logan cautioned, grasping Remy’s wrist. Remy tried to jerk away, and when he couldn’t he looked down; a pink glow was spreading across the tabletop from where his palm was. He sobered in an instant and carefully took back his charge and slowly lowered himself back into his seat. He fisted his hands and lay them on his thighs, but snarled out through clenched teeth, “non…”

“We’ll discuss it later.” Scott said firmly. “We need to know what happened.”

The room was silent for a moment, and then Spencer spoke up.

“We went out back of the club for Remy to have a cigarette, and… I just needed a moment. I… saw Remy tense and there was movement and then Remy… went down. They hit him in the head. And I couldn’t feel my power. At all. They had a portable short range Power dampener. And they had guns. I surrendered, they put inhibitor collars on us, tied us up and put us in the trunk of a car. Remy passed out from the concussion. They took us to an old warehouse on the river and… there were people there. There was a mutant. A woman.”

“Elise…” Logan snarled, baring his teeth. Remy and Spencer glanced over and saw the tips of his claws pushing slightly against the skin of his knuckles, but not yet breaking through…

“There was a man, Anthony, and she… sold us to him. They put us in front of a camera and made that… video.” Spencer trailed off for a moment. 

“Dey had another’ mutant wit’ dem…” Remy explained. “When dey pulled de trigger, we… watched our own bodies fall to de flo’… We was still dere, but… de camera didn’t SEE us… Jus’… de dead us… When de video stopped, de dead us disappeared. Dat Elise putain cut our arms t’ get our blood on de scarves.” And he nodded at the bloodstained scarves that sat in the middle of the table. “Den she left…” He looked at Logan. “Who de hell was she?!”

“A female I’d met twice, expressed her interest in me as a mate twice, and that I turned down twice. Told her I wasn’t interested in takin’ a mate.” Logan rumbled, eyes gleaming dangerously.

“And then you took us…” Spencer sighed, leaning back with a sigh. 

“Was she jus’ out fo’ revenge, o’ to eliminate de competition?” Remy asked.

“Don’t matter…” Logan snorted. “If I find her, I’m gonna kill’er.”

Xavier cleared his throat and gave Logan a warning look, and Emma asked, “What happened when she left you to this… Anthony?”

“Remy fought, but…” 

“Dey t’reatened to shoot Spencer in de leg…” Remy grumbled, looking angry. “Got tasered, me. Next t’ing I know, we in a van. Spencer said we been on de road fo’ hours. Ended up in dis… bunker. Don’t know where we were. Dey strip us, made us shower an’ locked us in a cell. Was a supply house fo’ de mutant black market, I t’ink. Ot’er mutants were dere. An’ a few times, Anthony showed up wit’ some rich guy to take a look at us. He was… sellin’ Gambit an’ Nightlight as a set. Made sure everyone knew dat we were de Wolverine’s…”

Logan growled deeply at that, and Spencer laid a hand on his knee, soothingly.

“… Someone bought us.” Remy said then, and the table exploded, and Remy had to wait a moment to continue. “Don’t know who. Some homme in Hong Kong. Sent a woman to uh… inspect de merchandise an’ make de transaction. De las’ t’ing we remember was… bein’ sedated to be… shipped.”

“And how did you get all those bruises?” Hank asked.

“Remy got beat whenever he try t’ protect Spencer.” Remy shrugged.

“I really must insist upon—“

“Insist all y’ want, Gambit ain’t settin’ one foot NEAR yo’ lab, Henri!” Remy shouted, pushing back from the table and standing once more. “Remy ain’t talkin’ ‘bout dis no more, neither!” And he put his hands up at all the people yelling at him now, and stalked towards the door. “Get de fuck outta de way, Fearless!”

“Gambit, sit down!” Scott ordered.

“Piss off!”

Whatever Scott said in response was lost when the alarms suddenly started blaring. Everyone froze for a moment, and then bolted.

‘It’s the front gate again!’ Jean’s voice rang through their minds. They all made their way up into the house and out the front door.

And then, it was déjà vu.

There in the drive stood Victor Creed, picking his claws and leaning against a dark green luxury SUV, smirking. 

“… What the hell d’ya want now?” Logan growled, shoving his way through the others, and immediately placing himself between Gambit and Sabretooth, who was openly eyeing the Cajun, slowly taking in every inch of the long legs in the dark, designer jeans and tight ivory v-neck shirt. He inwardly mused that Remy should get soaked in that shirt, pronto. Then he spotted Spencer behind Remy, peering at him curiously over the fiery Cajun’s shoulder.

“See they ain’t any worse fer the wear…” Creed commented, then sniffed the air. “Ya ain’t reclaimed ‘em yet, either.” And he grinned when Logan snarled, Remy glared, and the kid blushed. A moment later and Remy sauntered forward, almost casual like, and moved to stand beside Logan. He tilted his head down to stare at Creed directly, over his shades.

“How’d y’ find us?” He asked, his hands beginning to shuffle a deck of cards with practiced ease. Creed glanced down at Gambit’s active hands, and smirked before meeting his gaze.

“Coincidence.” He shrugged.

“Find dat hard t’ b’lieve…”

“Believe what ya want.” Creed snorted. “I was there to pick up somethin’ fer Sinister. Trashed the place fer fun. Was gonna see about stealin’ a car when I found ya. All packed up an’ ready to go.”

“… So why bring us back?” Remy demanded, narrowing his eyes as his shuffling got more complicated and fancy… a sure sign that he was ready to start throwing them…

“Ya wouldn’t understand, Swamp Rat…” Creed chuckled. His eyes snapped to the side then, drawn by movement. Spencer was now standing beside Remy, and Logan wasn’t liking that his mates had put themselves in the open, facing Sabretooth. Creed could smell the boy’s nerves, but he had to admire the kid’s guts when he raised his chin, looked him straight in the eye and softly said, “thank you. For bringing us home.”

Everything was silent. Creed looked surprised. Remy’s hands had frozen, cupped around his deck, and he and Logan (and all the X-Men behind them on the front stairs) were now staring at Spencer. He didn’t acknowledge anyone. He just maintained his eye contact with Victor Creed. After a long few moments, Creed snorted and grinned, saying “wasn’t doin’ it fer you, kid. Didn’t do it ta be nice.”

“I know.” Spencer nodded. “I know perfectly well why you did it. Even if the others don’t believe me. But no matter your reasons, you have my gratitude nonetheless.”

Creed regarded the young man, looking baffled, but then shrugged and huffed, turning and making his way to the back of the SUV.

“Whaddya want, Victor?” Logan growled now, once more placing himself between Creed and his mates.

“Brought ya another present!” Creed called over his shoulder, and ripped off of the back hatch of the SUV and pulled out what appeared to be a large plastic footlocker. He dropped it on the ground, and everyone stared when shuffling, thumping and growls could be heard from inside. Creed gave Logan a grin, then ripped the lid off. As soon as he did, a figure came flying out with a shriek, straight at Creed’s face. 

“HAH!” The massive feral laughed, catching his attacker by the throat and grinning, even as claws ripped into his biceps, as the arms of his attacker were too short to reach his face. “Feisty lil’ bitch, ain’t she?!” And he flung the woman to the ground. She impacted hard, and had the wind knocked out of her. Many of the X-Men looked horrified at her treatment, but Logan had gone frighteningly still… and so had Remy and Spencer. They were all staring as Elise groaned and rolled onto her belly, forcing herself up to her feet. She shook her head and looked around then. The first thing she saw… was Logan.

Her eyes widened in surprise. And then she saw Remy and Spencer. Her eyes widened more and her mouth fell open, before she let out a feline shriek and launched herself at the pair, teeth and claws bared. 

Logan roared, darting to get between her and his mates, even as Remy pushed Spencer behind him and raised a hand of cards. But then there was a flash and a shimmering, iridescent wall of light appeared between Logan and Elise. The pair only bounced off of it, and then let out enraged sounds. By then, Creed had seized the woman by the back of the neck and lifted her off of the ground, and Spencer had Logan trapped in a dome of light. The feral was furious, trying to claw his way out.

Creed looked up at the X-Men, finally acknowledging them. “I suggest ya make yerselves scarce. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“You can’t kill her!” Cyclops blurted, striding forwards.

“I ain’t…” Creed chuckled, and looked pointedly at Logan. “He is.”

“No, he isn’t.” Cyclops countered.

“Yes.” Everyone turned and looked at Remy. “He is. Dat be de Wolverine now.” Sure enough, Logan was gone, and the man in the dome had become the beast and was absolutely beside himself in rage. “Can feel it, me. He ain’t steppin’ aside til’ he done what he need t’ do.”

“That can’t mean killing her!” Cyclops argued.

“That’s exactly what it means…” Creed chuckled. “But that’s only half of it.” He turned and looked at Spencer. “Ya understand ferals? Then ya know what the other half is…”

Spencer looked agonized as he turned to look back at Logan. Then he sighed and admitted “once he has dispatched the… transgressor…” He said, slowly, “he’ll have to uh… reclaim us.” And he averted his eyes and turned red.

Remy let out a long, aggravated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Righ’ den. Remy go get de lube.”

Creed threw his head back and roared with laughter at the scandalized looked on the faces of so many of the X-Men…

“Spencer be righ’…” The Cajun told the group at large. “Dis gotta happen fo’ de Wolverine t’ chill de fuck out.” Cyclops looked speechless in horror. “Suggest y’all barricade y’selves in de house fo’ de night. Dis ain’t gon’ be for ANY o’ you t’ see, oui? We be fine.” And he shamelessly used his Charm to get them to listen to him. But it wasn’t working; a few of them edged back towards the house, but didn’t go in.

“The longer we wait, the worse he’ll get!” Spencer finally called over his shoulder, maintaining his focus on holding the Wolverine captive.

“We should transport him to the Danger Room.” Jean suggested.

“Won’t help!” Spencer called back. “He’s gotten her scent. He won’t stop until he’s finished it. Trapping him like that will only madden him further. It’s dangerous. Do that, and we may NEVER get Logan back.”

“… Let them be.” Everyone turned and stared at Emma Frost. The White Queen folded her arms over her chest. “The ferals are not for us to fully understand. Not only must the Wolverine do this, but if he does not, then SHE will continue to try finish what she feels she must; removing Helios and Gambit from the picture. While it is hardly in good taste, this is the lesser of the two evils, and only one person will be hurt; The one who started it to begin with. It is the law of the wild that the more feral mutants must sometimes live by, no matter how human they are. It is not our place to interfere.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Hank and Kurt turned and went inside. Several of the others were shocked. Rahne was leaning against the doorframe, and said “she’s right, y’know…” And then headed inside herself.

Marrow looked around at the others, and followed, and after a moment, Rogue nodded to Remy, and did so as well. Besty and Emma were the next to disappear into the house, followed closely by Bishop and Warren, and then Forge, Colossus, Kitty and Jubilee.

“I do not like this.” Storm said slowly, looking at Remy. “But I trust you.” And then she turned away, joined by Havok, Polaris and Iceman. The only ones remaining now were Cyclops, Jean and the Professor.

The latter was scowling, and then declared “I will force the Wolverine aside, for Logan to come forwards.” But only a moment later and he recoiled violently, with a cry of pain.

“Charles?!” Jean cried, running to his side. 

“Stay OUT of my mate’s HEAD.” Came a vicious growl, and Cyclops and Jean stared in shock at Spencer. 

“I can help him!” Xavier insisted.

“He wouldn’t like that, and it would only postpone the inevitable. I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m a Federal Agent, dammit! And this is MURDER!!! But this is how it HAS to happen. If you prevent it, he’ll only be pissed at you. And you may break some of that trust you’ve managed to build up with him over the years. Allow this to happen, and he will only have appreciation, and respect for you. Now please. Go inside.”

Xavier stared at Spencer for a long moment, and then, a bitter look on his face, he nodded, and he and Jean want into the house.

“C’mon, Fearless…” Remy murmured, gripping Scott’s arm and steering him inside. “Y’ gotta let t’ings happen. Can’t control everyt’ing, oui?”

“Why are YOU coming inside?” Cyclops asked, and Remy chuckled.

“Said so earlier… gotta get de lube, me! T’ink po’ Remy gonna let de Wolverine pound m’ ass dry?!” And then he outright laughed at the horrified look on Scott’s face. That was the last thing they saw before the door closed, and they heard the locks turning.

Spencer turned his attention back to Creed, and the angry, but nervous looking Elise. Both were staring at him now.

“So.” Creed said simply, cocking his head. “Helios, eh?” Spencer merely nodded, glancing at the Wolverine, still trapped in the dome. He had used his telepathic connection to the feral to gently soothe the beast, at least for the moment. Instead of being in a berserker fury, the Wolverine was pacing, eyes on Elise. Spencer reassured him, over and over, that he would have his hunt shortly.

“Ya got balls, kid.” Sabretooth chuckled. “An’ that was a pretty impressive trick, what ya did ta Wheels, there.”

“You can tell that to your boss…” Spencer growled, glaring. “No one can get into MY head. Or those around me. Unless I allow it.”

“I think I’d rather keep that ta myself fer now.” Creed told him. “… Just tell me when ta turn this bitch loose.” Spencer frowned, and Creed elaborated. “Wanna give her a head start. Makes the hunt more fun.”

“I know. You like to play with your prey. But she’s not yours.”

“Yer right. She’s HIS.” Creed nodded at Logan. “But I’m his hunting partner.”

“Not anymore.”

“I am today.” Creed growled. “I got a point ta make myself.”

Spencer said nothing. There was no talking him out of it. A moment later, and Remy came strolling around the corner of the house, a bundle tucked under each arm. Spencer gave him a questioning look, but Remy didn’t respond. He gave Creed a scathing look, then turned to the woods, calling “Let’s go.”

Grinning, Creed followed, Elise squirming in his grasp, hissing and spitting at Creed and Remy both. Spencer rolled his eyes and followed, his focus on the orb that he kept Logan contained in. The Wolverine was fussing now, getting impatient but still allowing himself to be calmed by Spencer’s mental caresses.

He would have his hunt soon…


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay!!! Writer's Block is a KILLER!!!! But here you go!

It was an odd group that made their way into the woods on the grounds out back and around the lake. No words were exchanged. They picked their way through the woods, and when they were about a mile in, Remy LeBeau, leading the little party, stopped in a clearing. Victor Creed looked around, lifting his head and scenting the air, then chuckling as he noticed the claw marks in the trees; apparently Logan was very territorial over this spot.

“Let her go.” Remy commanded, firmly. Creed set Elise down on her feet, but kept his hand around her neck. She glared up at him.

“Run, bitch. The faster ya run, the longer ya live. But don’t go gettin’ any ideas… ya ain’t gonna make it out alive…” And he let her go. 

Elise stood there for a moment, glaring, and then growled “so you think…” And then she turned to glare at Remy and Spencer. “I’ll be back to finish you. Soon.” And then she turned and darted off into the woods.

The Wolverine let out a furious roar and immediately attacked the side of his prison, and Spencer could only wince as his attempts to calm the feral were violently rebuffed. Before him, Creed and Remy stood and just stared at each other, Remy with a scowl, Creed with a grin. Eventually, Creed said “I’ll be back to finish you, myself. But later.”

“Pfft. Y’ don’t scare Gambit, Creed. Ain’t eighteen no more, me. Ain’t a pup… Y’ ain’t touchin’ dis t’ief again…”

“We’ll see.” Creed chuckled, then looked at Spencer. “Let him out.”

Remy moved away and stood behind Spencer as he set the orb on the ground and collapsed one side of it, releasing the Wolverine in the direction that Elise had gone in. Immediately, he surged forwards, a deafening roar echoing over the woods. He barreled straight into Creed, who fell back and rolled, flinging the Wolverine off with a roar of his own, and then they pair went flying into the forest, snarling and snapping at one another in some strange hostile greeting before they both fell into the mindset of the hunt and put their focus on the prey… Elise… And then they were gone…

“Now what?” Spencer asked, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Now we wait.” Remy murmured, resting his chin on Spencer’s shoulder and curling his arms around his lover. “C’mon… brought us a change o’ clothes.”

“Hm?”

“Too cold t’ be waitin’ fo’ de Wolverine in de buff, non? But really don’t want him ruinin’ what I got on, me.” And Remy stepped back and began to strip. Spencer watched as he then pulled on an old sweater and sweat pants that were worn and stained, and then he offered Spencer some older clothes, too. 

Sighing, he accepted them and changed, and Remy neatly folded their nice clothes and set them at the base of a tree, beside other supplies he had brought… a couple of blankets, water bottles, a first aid kit and, of course, a bottle of lube.

“… He… He’s really gonna…”

“Kill ‘er? Oui… y’ know dat…”

“And… he’s really gonna…”

“Come back an’ fuck our brains out? Hell yeah…” Remy chuckled, grinning. “Suggest we be ready, non?”

“I dunno if I ever will… but I guess it had to happen sometime…”

“Spencer? Y’ scared, mon soleil?”

“A bit…” Reid admitted, looking up at the evening sky over the treetops. Remy smiled.

“De Wolverine ain’t not’in t’ be scared of, petit… he loves you… you’ll know it. See it, feel it… Ain’t gonna lie… gonna be rough, intense, may even hurt a bit sometimes, but… Trust Remy on dis… y’ ain’t gonna want him t’ stop…” And he grinned and winked. Spencer turned red, ducking his head as he felt his body shiver.

He sighed and forced himself to relax, trying to ease away his nerves. He wasn’t prepared at the sudden tingle of pleasure that trickled through him, the shiver of anticipation… and then he gasped softly even as he heard a moan from behind him, and familiar wet, slick sounds. He turned, and his breath caught in his throat as the blood rose into his cheeks, and then rushed into his groin.

Remy had his back to Spencer. He was standing with his legs apart and pants around his thighs, bracing himself on a tree with one arm while he prepared himself with the other. His fingers, slick with lube, were slowly teasing his own entrance, slipping in and out, spreading the lube all around both outside, and in.

Spencer’s knees were weak and he let out a low moan at the sight, and then found himself moving towards his lover. Remy gasped and shivered at the warm fingers on his wrist, and his hand was pulled away from his intimate areas, and then Spencer had an arm curled around Remy’s waist as he brought their bodies flush against each other. Remy sighed and smiled as he felt the gentle kisses over the back of his neck and shoulder, and then Spencer was taking the lube from him.

“Remy… are you sure you can… do this?” He asked, softly.

“Hehn?”

“They… they raped you…” Spencer murmured.

“Shhh…” Remy soothed. “Ain’t de firs’ time… DAT particular honor,” he spat out the last word, “went t’ Creed. Remy be fine. Dose connards didn’t do any lastin’ damage.”

“But if you’re already sore, Logan will—“

“It be fine, cher… Jus’ gotta make sure dat I uh… make sure t’ings be ready down dere fo’ Wolvie. So uh… be liberal wit’ dat stuff, oui?” 

Reid sighed, his breath tickling over the back of Remy’s neck, and then Remy hissed as two slicked fingers slid into him. “Oh… mon Dieu… Oh, Spencer…” He whined, bracing both hands against the tree and pushing back into the questing fingers, taking them in deeper. He moaned and sighed in soft pleasure as Spencer continued to kiss and nuzzle over his neck, and he smiled when he felt the younger man’s arousal against his hip.

“None o’ dat, now Nightlight… De Wolverine would NOT like it if we started wit’out him…” Spencer grinned at that, and Remy turned to face him, kissing him deeply.

“I’m sure we can… do something to pass the time…” Spencer mumbled against Remy’s lips, and then with a giggle, they tumbled to the ground and Spencer felt his pants being worked down to his knees. 

Remy sat over him, squeezing the lube out into his fingers as Spencer combed his fingers through the grass. “Spread yo’ legs fo’ Remy…” Spencer obeyed and shivered when he was spread open, and felt the lube dribble down.

“It’s cold…” He gasped, and Remy smiled.

“Oui… desole, mon soleil…” The Cajun shrugged, and then leaned over to gently press a kiss to Spencer’s chest as he pushed a finger into him. “Now…” He murmured softly, kissing over Spencer’s face as he gently slid his finger in and out of the younger man’s body. “Few t’ings t’ know, Nightlight… Firs’ off… we don’t touch each ot’er when Wolvie gets here… Y’ let him do it all… we be HIS. Acknowledge dat… when he come, y’ focus on him. Not on Remy… let de Wolverine do what he wants. He ain’t gonna hurt y’ ‘less y’ challenge him. He be OUR Alpha, an’ he need t’ reinforce dat, oui?”

Spencer nodded, staring up into his lover’s eyes and shivering when Remy added a second finger. “Be submissive.” Remy continued. “Welcome ‘im. Love ‘im. Wolvie needs t’ see dat we need ‘im. Want ‘im, adore ‘im, even… Needs t’ see dat we still be his. An’ not jus’ b’cause he be stakin’ his claim again… but b’cause we WANT to be.”

A third finger was added and Spencer moaned into Remy’s mouth when the man leaned over and captured his lips, and he gripped the muscled biceps. A moment later though, and they broke the kiss with mutual gasps as they heard a distant shriek, and Remy’s pupils dilated.

“… It’s done.”

“He… killed her?”

“Oui… Felt it…”

“You… felt her die?”

“Non… felt de Wolverine’s triumph.”

“Oh.”

“He be comin’ back t’ us now, cher… When he get here, y’ wait fo’ Wolvie t’come t’ you… An’ den y’ welcome him. But Remy… he gotta go to de Wolverine, firs’… y’ hear?”

“Why?”

“B’cause Remy was… taken by ot’ers… gotta make sure Wolvie knows dat Remy didn’t betray ‘im… dat it wasn’t… Remy’s choice… Gotta beg f’giveness.”

“Forgiveness?! You were raped!!!” Spencer cried, anger and indignation flaring up.

“Shhh… Logan know dat… but de Wolverine be a bit too primitive an’ raw right now, mon soleil… All he knows is dat Remy let ot’er males have ‘im. Gotta make ‘im understand…”

“He won’t hurt you, will he?”

“Not as long as Remy do dis right.” Remy assured Spencer, slipping his fingers from Spencer’s body and helping him dress again. Then the pair sat side by side, curled up in each other’s arms as they waited, hearts pounding…

The leaves, ablaze with color in full Autumn, rustled in the cool breeze. The sky overhead was such an incredibly deep dark blue at one end, and such a rich orange on the other with the setting sun… now, the smallest smattering of the brightest starts were appearing, with only the occasional wisp of cloud. The pair listened to it all, awaiting the approach of the beast…

“He’s close.” Remy murmured, and through their empathy and telepathy, their minds linked and Spencer was able to feel the raw, primal emotions coming closer. It was buzzing with anger, satisfaction from his successful hunt, and a lustful anticipation mixed with his fierce need to reclaim his mates. When they finally heard him moving through the woods towards them, Remy turned, kissed Spencer’s cheek, and rose from the ground, reaching out with his empathy.

Then the Wolverine appeared from the murky shadows at the treeline, slashing at one of the large trees with his claws. His clothes were spattered in blood and his eyes were on Remy, who was slowly walking towards him, his movements smooth and sensual. He was reaching out with his empathy, projecting emotions towards the feral; joy, welcome, happiness, love, desire… regret.

The Wolverine watched him come through narrowed eyes. Then Remy stood before him, staring down. The Wolverine bristled, baring his teeth and growling. Remy moved to kneel before the Wolverine, still staring into his eyes, now looking up at him. This seemed to placate the beast a bit. Then he reached out, resting his hands on Logan’s hips, allowing his eyes to slide closed as he leaned forward, resting his head against the feral’s hard abdomen.

Spencer watched uneasily as the Woverine’s growl didn’t fade…

“Je suis desole, mon amour…” Remy murmured, nuzzling against the feral. “Didn’t want it, me… would neve’ betray y’ like dat… Je taime, mon amour… My Wolvie…” He tilted his head back now, gazing up at Logan. The powerful mutant glared back down at him. “Dey forced Remy… did it t’ punish ‘im… fo’ defyin’ dem… fo’ protectin’ Spencer. Your Spencer…” The Wolverine’s eyes flashed up to Spencer momentarily, and his eyes softened a bit. “Dey was gonna hurt ‘im… touch ‘im… he was cryin’… Had t’ stop dem. An’ when Remy tried, dey got angry…” 

The Cajun’s hand was now slowly sliding up Logan’s chest, skipping his neck and moving to rest on the feral’s cheek, slipping long fingers into the slightly unkempt sideburns. “Tried t’ fight, me… I did. But… Gambit didn’t have ‘is powers… An’ dey was t’reatenin’ t’ take Spencer too, iffn Remy didn’t let dem have ‘im… Had to, me…” Now tears were welling up, and Remy allowed them to fall. 

The next seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, but then, the Wolverine raised a hand and rested it on Remy’s cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. Remy gave him a little smile, turning his head slightly and kissing the palm of Logan’s hand. 

“If Spencer wasn’t dere… if he didn’t need Remy t’ protect ‘im… woulda died b’fore I let dem have me like dat, Logan…”

“NO.” The Wolverine suddenly said, frowning and looking upset at the idea.

“I’m yours, me… always… an’ you an’ Spencer be de only ones Gambit want touchin’ ‘im… De only ones Gambit LET touch ‘im. I’m yours, Logan… yours. An’ dat’s all I want… Je taime, Wolvie… s’il t’ plait… Can y’ fo’give dis po’ Cajun?”

The tension was thick as the silence surrounded them. The Wolverine’s growl had faded and he stood perfectly still, staring down at Remy. Spencer could feel Remy’s nerves piling up. Finally, Remy swallowed thickly and took the Wolverine’s hands in his own, shuffling back on his knees a few feet, drawing the Wolverine after him. Then he sank back onto his heels before shifting his legs and slowly lying back onto the cool mossy ground, drawing Logan down to hover over him. 

Oh so carefully, he sprawled himself out beneath the Wolverine, resting his hands down beside his head, palms up, he laid his legs down spread wide on either side of Logan’s knees, opening himself up to the feral, and then he closed his eyes, tilted his head back and bared his throat, submissively offering himself up to the beast above him. And then he waited, sending emotions up to the Wolverine; pained contrition, desire for absolution, and longing for the one he loved…

He had offered himself… now he waited for the Wolverine to accept.

Golden eyes stared down at the young man laying exposed and vulnerable beneath him, awaiting his judgement. He paid no attention to Spencer, who was watching with wide eyes and fists clenched, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He was ready to use his powers to protect Remy, if necessary.

The Wolverine bowed his head, scenting Remy.

‘Remy?’ Spencer called hesitantly, into the Cajun’s mind.

‘Shhhh… let ‘im do dis on his own time, cher…’

‘I don’t like this!’

‘Shhhh… s’all gon’ be okay. Je promets.’ Remy assured him. Spencer gasped when the Wolverine suddenly bared his claws, and in a few swipes Remy was left naked, the clothes ruined, just as he had predicted. Goosebumps rose on his flesh as the young man from the deep South lay perfectly still in the chill autumn air of New York State. The Wolverine moved over his body, scenting him, and then, suddenly, started to lick at his skin, tasting him. Remy shivered, his lips parting in a soft whimper that had the feral pausing and staring into his face. Remy sent him a soft pulse of pleasure that the lapping had sent through him.

Spencer watched, eyes wide and body frozen as the Wolverine made quick work of his own clothes, and then hovered over Remy once more, staring down at his bared throat. He lowered his head, snuffling down Remy’s neck and then pausing at the juncture of his shoulder, where a scarred bite mark sat. HIS bite mark. The Wolverine stared at it, and then began to scrape his tongue over it, tasting Remy’s skin and feeling the texture of the scar tissue. Then he stilled. The world seemed to hold its breath, and then, almost gently, the Wolverine sunk his teeth into Remy’s flesh, puncturing through his golden skin with a soft pop and renewing the mark.

Remy cried out to the sky, arching his back and lifting his hips, only for hands to grip him and maneuver his lower body, and then a near-shriek ripped out of him as he was penetrated by the Wolverine, without any warning whatsoever, and he allowed his mates to feel his lust.

Spencer felt his eyes grow wider even as a heat tricked into his belly as he watched Remy writhing beneath the Wolverine, fingers tangled in the grass as his body was jerked with every rough thrust. Over their link, Spencer could feel Remy’s utter relief; his apology had been accepted, and the Wolverine had forgiven him… he was still wanted by his mate. After a few moments, Remy’s trembling hands moved to cling to Logan, and then the feral was holding onto Remy, loosening his jaw only to bite down again, harder. Remy cried out once more as the pain zinged through him like an electric shock, making his entire body shudder as it added a delightful spice to the pleasure.

Spencer watched Logan’s powerful hands holding Remy’s body, his fingers digging into his skin and leaving bruises in their wake, and even little half moon cuts from his fingernails… The closer they got to climax, the more rough and frantic their motions were. Remy was unashamedly vocal, encouraging his lover in a broken mess of heavily accented English and Cajun French, begging him to claim him once more… to mark him, to fill him, to leave no doubt to anyone just who he belonged to. Through Remy, Spencer could feel the Wolverine’s mounting pleasure at the Cajun’s words… his deep approval as a rumbling growl began to emanate from deep in his chest. He dragged his fingernails down Remy’s body, leaving angry red scratches in their wake and making Remy hiss.

Then the Wolverine released Remy’s shoulder and was staring down into his eyes. Remy stared back, smiling up at him and caressing the feral’s cheek under his palm. “Yours… all yours, me… Ohh!” He gasped, then allowed his eyes to roll back into his head as his breath hitched and an almighty shudder ran through his body as he climaxed with a strangled groan. The Wolverine bowed his head and inhaled the potent scent coming off of his mate, then withdrew and slid down his body, gently lapping up the pale splatter of fluids that decorated the Cajun’s chest and belly.

Remy gasped and shivered when the Wolverine licked at his spent manhood, and in fact tried to roll away and curl up protectively to escape the overly intense sensations that came from the hypersensitivity that his body was in post-orgasm. The Wolverine growled slightly and seized him, rolling him over the rest of the way. Remy had no time to utter a single word into the grass before he was mounted and his body was breeched again.

Sitting only a few feet away, Spencer whined slightly as a wave of intense tingling rushed through him, echoing Remy’s overwhelmed nerves as the Wolverine rutted into him from behind, lapping at the coagulating blood on the bite mark. A large hand slid under the Cajun’s abdomen and pulled him up to his knees and then remained pressed against his stomach, holding him possessively against the body folded over his own, a chest and belly molding down over the curve of his spine.

Remy allowed it all, remaining compliant and submissive with his feral mate as he drowned himself in the emotions coming off of the Wolverine. Spencer knew that for Remy, feeling the emotions of his lovers were just as arousing, just as satisfying as the physical pleasure of sex. And very few people had truly had sex with the mutant thief on more than just the physical level. Even BellaDonna Boudreaux herself had never joined with him on an empathic level while they joined physically, in what felt like a lifetime ago to Remy LeBeau… he had been saving that experience for their Wedding Night… 

And of course, Fate had other plans for him…

Spencer, his own body flooded with arousal that came off of his two mates, found himself confused at the wordless moans and cries, and the loud begging that he was hearing all at once. It took a few moments of focus to comprehend that the pleas were all being projected via Spencer’s telepathy… the words were in Remy’s mind, but he was too far gone to voice them, and so he just cried out his ecstasy with every thrust into his body, each one nearly threatening to knock him off balance, and he threaded his fingers into those pressed to his stomach. 

Spencer twitched then, feeling a niggling in his mind. He lifted his eyes and locked gazes with the Wolverine. The golden eyes bored into his own, and Spencer sat frozen as he heard Remy’s piercing cry. Then the Cajun dropped to the cool ground and lay there, limp and panting. Spencer nearly groaned and felt a shudder of erotic pleasure run through his body as his eyes dropped and watched the Wolverine slowly withdraw from Remy with a slippery sound… a glistening strand of semen held them connected for a moment, stretched between Remy’s entrance and the tip of the Wolverine’s erection, still hard and ready.

Spencer wondered if the Wolverine could actually feel it. He was very still up until the moment that the strand broke, and then he was moving towards Spencer, his intent more than obvious. But while Spencer expected to be pounced, he wasn’t… The Wolverine stopped, inches away and just stared at him. Then, cocking his head, he began to sniff over him. Spencer realized this was the first time he and the Wolverine had met like this, face to face, with nothing but each other to focus on. The Wolverine knew he was his mate, and now, he was curious. 

Smiling, Spencer reached out. The Wolverine froze, snarling in warning, but Spencer rested his hand on the feral’s cheek, then leaned in, and kissed him. The Wolverine looked surprised, to say the least. And he just sat there, squatting on the ground, and watched as Spencer drew off his t-shirt and pushed down the flannel pants, stripping himself naked. Then he sat back on his heels and waited. Intrigued, the Wolverine ambled forwards on all fours and began to inspect his mate, sniffling him all over.

Remy lifted his head after a few minutes and met Spencer’s gaze. Spencer gave him a little smile, showing his amused affection for the Wolverine as the beast sniffed down his spine, his hair tickling the skin of his back. Remy grinned back at Spencer and winked, then slowly rolled onto his side, curling his arm under his head to watch as the Wolverine circled to the front again, and then sat in front of Spencer, staring at him, nose to nose. After a moment, he sucked in a breath and let out a sharp whuff.

Remy grinned and rolled onto his back now, looking delighted at the Wolverine’s interesting behavior. Spencer looked equally amused. He had never thought of the Wolverine as endearing, but that’s how he was finding him at the moment. He reached out and laid his hands on the feral’s shoulders and moved to straddle his lap, turning and whispering into his ear, “take me… make me yours…”

Remy laughed when the Wolverine looked stunned, but then turned and gave Spencer a toothy grin. “Be gentle wit’ our Spencer now, Wolvie…” He warned. “Don’t y’ scare ‘im none!”

The Wolverine let out a mighty snort at that one, burying his nose in Spencer’s hair behind his ear, even as he lowered the young man to the mossy ground. Remy chuckled, reaching his arms up over his head and stretching, feeling quite sated after the double orgasm he had just had. He watched as the Wolverine, still snuffling over Spencer, manhandled the boy over onto his chest. Spencer was looking nervous, but excited, and he pushed himself up on his elbows and knees, spreading his legs as he was mounted and then gasping when the Wolverine pushed in.

“Gentle, Wolvie…” Remy reminded. The feral paused, eying Spencer’s shivering frame beneath him, and then, to Remy’s delighted surprise… he began to move gently. “Awww… dat’s a good boy…” Remy cooed, and then chuckled wickedly when the Wolverine paused, and shot him a glare that could be easily translated into ‘… don’t you fuckin’ patronize me’.

Then Spencer was gasping and moaning as he was taken, gentle but firm. He shivered at the feel of a tongue lapping over his shoulders, and soft snuffling in his ear. Then he felt the teeth scrape over his shoulder, over the bite mark, and he braced himself. When the Wolverine bit down, Spencer cried out, reaching a hand back over his head to fist in the feral’s hair. The Wolverine growled, biting down harder and beginning to take up a faster pace, putting more force into his thrusts.

Spencer writhed beneath him, softly panting out words of love and encouragement to the feral, and Remy could feel how this pleased the Wolverine. Even softened him around the edges a bit… The feral beast within Logan had always loved and protected, but until Spencer and Remy, had never been loved in return… that had always been reserved for Logan. The Wolverine had begun to learn how it felt to truly be loved from Remy, and now, he was getting it from Spencer, too. 

Smiling at this, Remy opened his empathy wide, and allowed the coupling pair to feel each other. That was all it took for Spencer to shudder and announced his climax with a broken cry, and the Wolverine let out a shocked howl as he came hard into the body beneath him. Then golden eyes were staring at Remy, flabbergasted. Remy just smiled up at him.

“Ah, cher…” He sighed, reaching out and brushing fingertips over the feral’s powerful bicep. “We love Logan… all of ‘im, oui? Y’ may be nothin’ but de big bad Wolverine t’ de rest of de world… But here, y’ just be OUR Wolvie…” Remy’s smile faltered and he let out a little yip as he was jerked across to grass to be laid down beside Spencer, with the Wolverine settling comfortably on top of them, hooding his eyes and… well… purring. Openly, obviously purring. Spencer and Remy just stared in shock, though that was quickly overcome with affection and delight.

Soon, the Wolverine was bowing his head and nuzzling his mates, snuffling over the skin, and then scraping his teeth over them, nipping at them… his hands still held them close, and they could feel his lust building once more, ready for another round. The sun had set by then, and the stars had come out. A chill wind blew, and the two boys from the south shivered, goosebumps rising on their skin. Both made sounds of displeasure and wriggled in closer to one another for warmth, but neither missed the Wolverine sitting back and cocking his head, giving them an affectionate little smirk of amusement. Then he huffed and shook his head, before seizing them and jerking them apart, arranging their body’s how he wanted them.

“Oh, c’mon, Wolvie!!! It be freezin’!” Remy complained, turning to roll towards Spencer again. He was seized by a strong hand and rough shoved back into place, and then they were both being pinned by a broad hand on their chests…

“Stay…” The Wolverine growled, all teeth and grins…

The pair, now laid out side by side, stared up at him with identical looks of surprise, eyes wide and mouths ajar. The feral just chuckled as he slid his hand down their bellies, brushing over their hardening lengths as he went, and then shoved three fingers up inside of his mates, relishing their reactions. Spencer tossed his head back with a cry, his eyes wide and staring up at the sky, where stars were beginning to glitter. Remy groaned and his body tightened as he pushed himself up on his elbows and curled in, drawing his feet up as he bent his knees and spread his legs further apart, rocking his hips and gasping as the thick fingers pumped in and out of his body, twisting in a delicious manner and pressing, rubbing, massaging his prostate in a sweet, sublime torture. He vaguely registered Spencer’s desperate pleas for release, even as he himself let out a sob, his eyes flying open as his head fell back, hair brushing over the mossy ground. He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his own face as he was completely lost in the sensations in his body, and in the maelstrom of emotions that was raging through all three of them through their empathic and telepathic link.

Spencer arched up off of the grass, tossing his head from side to side as he gripped tightly at the grass in his fists, before one of Remy’s hands found his, and then they held fast to each other. Remy gasped and bucked his hips, and Spencer let out a keen as a thumb began to massage swollen testicles, and then a thumbnail scraped down the undersides of their erections, and the pair came undone under the Wolverine, who kept rubbing their prostates through their orgasms.

When the pair finally came down from their highs, the Wolverine was stalking the perimeter of the little clearing, sniffing around, and slashing the trees with his claws, marking them as a bear would.

“… Think he urinates on things to mark them, too?” Spencer mused, yawning and snuggling up to Remy.

“Prob’ly.” Remy chuckled, grinning in amusement at the thought.

“Wonderful.” Spencer groaned, and lifted his head as the Wolverine approached them, circling them and sniffing, and even posturing a bit, which brought amused grins to his mates’ faces. Spencer gasped and giggled, squirming away when the Wolverine nibbled at his shoulder. The Wolverine snorted at that, then smirked and pinned him face down.

“Oh, y’ in fo’ it now, cher!” Remy laughed.

The Wolverine leaned in and nibbled over Spencer’s neck, inhaling his scent as he mounted his lover, and pushed in. Spencer groaned, arching his back and savoring the full feeling, but it didn’t last long. He let out a strangled yell as the Wolverine bit down on his shoulder, renewing his bite mark there, just as he had done on Remy, relishing the taste of Spencer’s blood on his tongue, and then he was moving. The pleasure sizzled up Spencer’s spine at he was rutted into from behind. He squirmed, gasping, and spread his knees further, curving his spine and pressing back into his mate’s hips, one hand reaching back and clawing at the Wolverine’s thigh. The feral caught his hand and held it for a moment, and then guided it. Spencer’s hand ran over his own chest under the Wolverine’s hand, down his stomach, and then he was caressing his genitals, and crying out his pleasure as he was massaged by his own hand, and the Wolverine’s.

“Oh God… Logan… please!!!” He cried, his body moving to match the motion of Logan’s body… rocking, bucking, rubbing, undulating in unison. Remy lay motionless on the ground, watching them with glassy eyes, panting slightly himself. He swallowed thickly as Spencer bowed his spine with a strangled groan, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and grit his teeth, sucking in a breath and holding it for a moment, desperately trying to seize that level of pleasure that would make him shatter… but he fell short, releasing the breath he was holding with a sob, and panting a few times before trying again.

Remy didn’t know how long Logan skillfully held Spencer there, on the precipice, but holding him just enough to keep him from falling. It could have been minutes, or hours. The earth seemed to fall away, leaving just the two copulating, and the one entranced by the sight. Spencer moved between frustration and desperation, wanting to praise and curse the God he didn’t believe in both, for allowing His creations to experience this level of existence… this ecstasy that was such sublime torture…

He felt like he was experiencing hot and cold flashes at the same time, his body tingling all the way down to his toes where they were curling into the moss… 

The end caught him by surprise. By the time he realized that he had finally—FINALLY—reached his climax, he was already in the full throes of his orgasm. His mind had whited out, he heard his own scream off in the distance, miles away, and his body felt so hot that he was sure his skin was steaming in the wintry wind.

Remy watched all of this like a man hypnotized. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe… he soaked in the magnificence of his mates with his eyes and his empathy, his mouth growing dry and a shiver running down his spine that was not brought on by the cold. He watched as Logan rocked against Spencer once more as the younger’s ejaculation subsided. He panted desperately, his entire body trembling as the waves of his climax crested and then ebbed, falling still and smooth once more, leaving sheer exhaustion in their wake. Then, he was released as the beast of a man backed away.

Specner collapsed bonelessly with a thin whine and then lay still and silent, save for the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath, and the shivering that accompanied his skin breaking out into goosebumps when the Wolverine’s abandonment left him vulnerable to the cold night air. The Wolverine sat and watched him for a few minutes, and then circled him, sniffling and nuzzling, then nudging him, as if seeking a response.

“Y’ alright dere, Nightlight?” Remy asked, grinning; he could feel perfectly well that Spencer was just fine.

“Nnnnhh… I’m going to expect breakfast in bed after this…” Spencer mumbled into the mossy ground, then peeked up over his arm and sent a mock glare at the Wolverine. “I’m sure not going to be able to make it out of bed and all the way down to the dining room…” A toothy grin was his response, and with a low rumble, the feral wedged his hips between Spencer’s thighs.

“Oh God no, I can’t go again!” Spencer half laughed, half whined.

“Bette’ you dan me, cher!” Remy grinned, then giggled at the look Spencer leveled onto him. But then, the Wolverine turned and fixed a toothy grin on him, and Remy paused, eyeing him with trepidation. Then, the Wolverine backed off of Spencer, and moved towards Remy.

“W-Wait a minnit now… Wolvie?! Non! Don’t y’ do it!” Remy blurted, scrambling back. But the Wolverine just barked out a laugh and leapt at Remy, his claws sliding out loudly. Remy yelped and closed his eyes, and felt the Wolverine land, his feet on either side of his knees, and the feral’s knees coming down to straddle his hips. And his claws?

Remy opened one eye, and then both snapped open wide… the claws had been plunged into the earth on either side of his neck, just over his shoulders.

“… Wolvie?” Remy gasped, staring into the grinning face of the Wolverine, who was looking quite pleased. Wolverine leaned in, chuckling, and nuzzled over Remy’s throat, nibbling up his jaw and then seizing his lips in a smoldering kiss that left his Cajun breathless as he maneuvered his lower body between the long legs. Trembling fingers tangled themselves into the feral’s wild, sweat-dampened hair, holding him in place as Remy kissed him back with equal heat and intensity, only breaking it to howl to the rising moon as his body was breached once more. And then they were both overtaken and fell into a furious copulation that might even be heard, were someone at the mansion with more keen ears to poke a head out of the window…

Remy’s body was jerked by every thrust, which were getting progressively harder, and he was being shifted back by the force. And then his shoulders were pressed against the Wolverine’s fists and he could go no further, as they both remained anchored by the claws stabbing deep into the earth.

Spencer could only watch, mouth agape… Remy was letting out harsh, high pitched cries of utter ecstasy as his body was bent and bowed, lifted up off of the ground with every thrust. Trembling, he wrapped his legs around the Wolverine’s waist and lifted shaking hands to clutch at the Wolverine’s wrists, his cries turning to sharp gasps and pleading whines… The Wolverine snarled in response, and Remy choked, then threw his head back as he finally climaxed, his semen shooting out in surprisingly elegant silken strands, to splash over his torso, where they sat shimmering on his golden skin like pearls, gleaming under the light of the moon that had nearly waxed full...

Remy was quiet then. Quiet and still. Spencer watched as the Wolverine shuffled back, withdrawing his claws from the ground and sheathing them before he ambled around his exhausted lover, snuffling over him, assuring himself that he hadn’t hurt his precious mate. And then he headed over to Spencer, doing the same, before beginning to gently, but insistently, nudge him. Spencer obediently moved, crawling over to Remy and snuggling up to him in the cold night air; the temperature was rapidly dropping… 

Then the Wolverine was moving towards them, the blankets in his teeth, and soon the three were settled both on, and under the thermal blankets, the Wolverine lying atop his mates in a protective manner. Neither Spencer nor Remy complained… it was both comforting, and it was keeping them warm. Lulled by the feral’s purr, the pair fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A low growl was what woke them. They were surprised to see sunlight through the fabric of the blanket that was draped over them, but their attention was mainly focused on Logan… His eyes were sharp though they were currently staring at nothing. And then they heard it… movement. Someone approaching… the crunch of snow? And whoever it was, they were getting close… Then, they heard sniffing.

“Logan, please tell me you’re not all sleeping under the snow?” Hank’s voice called. All three relaxed at that, and Logan whipped back the blanket, making Hank jump as the snow drift only a few yards away from him was revealed to be more than just a snow drift.

“Snow’s insulatin’. Kept us warm.” Logan stated calmly, smirking as Hank now looked horrified upon seeing the three men were still quite naked.

“Logan!” Spencer squealed, immediately shivering and getting goosebumps.

“You an ASS!” Remy blurted, jerking the blanket down over them again. But alas, the warm shelter had been compromised. Hank just sighed and tossed them warm sweats and boots and blankets, and the three men scrambled into them, Spencer and Remy shivering and making pained sounds as sore muscles made themselves known, Logan grinning in smug satisfaction, and Hank giving them all a stern look once they were ready.

“Alright.” Hank said, his tone gentle, but firm. “Back to the house. Spencer, Remy, my lab.”

“Non!” Remy blurted.

“After all you have been through, including spending a night in the woods in the snow without proper shelter, you’re getting a check up. No arguments or I’ll speak to Scott and he’ll make you Inactive on the X-Men Roster until you do.”

“Dat be blackmail!”

“Shaddup Cajun, yer goin’. Now march.” Logan growled, and pouting, Remy whirled and stomped off, leading the little group back to the house. Logan moved to walk beside Spencer, and looked up at him.

“Ya alright, darlin’? Didn’t hurt ya, did I?” He asked, looking a bit anxious.

Spencer smiled. “I’m fine. Remy warned me what I would be in for.”

“Did he?” Logan asked, looking curious. “Wha’d he say?”

Spencer’s lips slowly curved up into a smile, and Logan raised his eyebrows when Spencer ended up with a very pleased expression on his face, before he declared “the ride of my life.”

Logan’s only response was a very toothy grin, and flash of gold in his eyes.

-FIN-


End file.
